
. n.A^ Sv 



as 9^'ft<»iS*> 






■H 





.'- ::> 



Pass O J.y *fd O 

Book L- 

CopyiiglitE?. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 



MY GARDEN 




»?resT!«l.: V^fdWRFWCirWi', 



"a mosaic or tapestry-like effect does not seem to me what we 
want in our home gardens, but a gracious blending and contrasting 
of lovely elements — sweeps and patches and trails and spires of 

delightful colour in happy agreement and certainly there is no 

more enthralling pursuit than the handling of these floral 
pigments" 



MY GARDEN 



BY 

LOUISE BEEBE WILDER 




The eye always asks for a definite boundary to a piece 
of ornamental ground as it does for a frame to a picture. 

— John Sedding 



ILLUSTRATED 

BY 

WILL SIMMONS 



Garden Citt New York 

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 

1916 



SB153 



Copyright, 1916, hy 

DOUBLEDAY, PaGE & COMPANY 

All rights reserved, including that of 

translation into foreign languages, 

including the Scandinavian 



h'" 



OCT 30 1916 



©CI,A445431 



THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 

TO THE MEMORY 

OF 

MY MOTHER AND FATHER, 

MARY HARRISON 

AND 

CHARLES STUART BEEBE, 

THROUGH WHOSE LOVE 

AND WISDOM 

I FIRST OWNED A GARDEN 



Bless me, what a delightful prospect is herel And 
so it ought to be, for this garden was designed for 
pleasure— but for honest pleasure; the entertainment 
of the sight, the smell, and refreshment of the mind. 

— Erasmus. 




A FOREWORD AND A PLEA 

A garden is preeminently a place to indulge individual taste. 
. . . So regardless of doctors, let me say that the best general 
rule that I can devise for garden-making is : put all the beauty and 
delightsomeness you can into your garden, get all the beauty and 
delight you can out of your garden, never minding a little mad 
want of balance, and think of the proprieties afterward. 

— John Sedding. 

In gathering together these notes, I have no desire, 
nor am I competent, to undertake a dissertation upon 
styles or schools of gardening, to pose as an expert upon 
garden design or the science of horticulture, or to be 
understood as laying down the law upon any subject 
whatsoever. My wish is simply to answer for others 
some of the questions which sorely perplexed me in my 
early gardening days and to tell the story of my own 
experiences with this happy craft to those who may be 
treading the fragrant way a pace or two behind me, not 
that they may miss a single step in the fascinating path of 
personal experiment and achievement, but only that they 
may enjoy a sense of friendly fellowship without which 
no experience, however delightful, proves quite satisfying. 



X A FOREWORD AND A PLEA 

That we have opinions does not, or should not, mean 
that we expect others to espouse them immediately upon 
their recitation, and, if the ideas hereafter set forth are 
expressed with some fervour, the spirit actuating them is 
not dictatorial, not even argumentative, but wholly en- 
thusiastic and sympathetic. 

There is as much said nowadays, as there has always 
been, upon the styles of gardening, and each advocate 
claims for his especial school all the virtues, leaving for 
the rest none at all, so that it is a bit bewildering to know 
how so many different kinds of gardens can be so lovely; 
but the answer is, it seems to me, that styles and schools 
have little to do with the charm and beauty of a garden ; 
that the vital secret lies much deeper — in the gardener 
himself, and is born of his artistic perception and his 
power to take infinite pains to adapt his means to an 
end, which end is loveliness. In gardening, as in other 
matters, the true test of our work is the measure of our 
possibilities. 

Of the various schools, our garden would be termed 
formal, for there are the straight lines, the geometrical 
curves, the ordered design, the intention of man and the 
indication of his hand frankly confessed and plainly 
visible beneath the luxuriance^ — a sweet austerity dimly 
felt beneath the cajoleries of witching vine and creeper, 
of gay flowers rioting in their sun-bathed beds. And 
while I love best the "balanced beauty" "carefully par- 
celled out and enclosed" of this type of garden, I love, too. 



A FOREWORD AND A PLEA xi 

and am deeply interested in, all other kinds of gardens 
from the great and magnificent, with marble terraces and 
stairways, rare plants and many gardeners, to the narrow 
border beside the cottage path or the pot of flowers in 
the window of a tenement; for each has sprung from the 
desire of some one to express himself in beauty, and the 
simplicity of the medium matters not at all. 

As quoted at the head of this chapter, "A garden is 
preeminently a place to indulge individual taste," and 
whether one chooses to be Italian, English, Japanese, 
Colonial, or "natural" in one's style, or a little of each, 
one does not achieve a lovable, livable, intimate garden 
until one has put one's self into it — lived in it, worked in 
it, dreamed in it, studied it and brooded over it and 
woven into its warp of scientific knowledge a woof of 
sentiment and tenderness. 

My first garden, of which the present is but the 
emancipated and further developed spirit, was a rec- 
tangular space twelve feet long by six feet wide, neatly 
enclosed in a fence of clothes pins and boasting in each 
corner, by way of embellishment, a fine pink conch, and 
in the centre a milk pan sunk to the level of the earth 
and edged with white pebbles— a shining pool! Near 
one end a shabby mulberry tree cast a beneficent 
shadow, and in season dropped its mussy fruit among 
the warring Zinnias and valiantly coloured Portulaca. 
Within this small plot my love of gardening was born — a 
lusty child— and it mattered not that there were years 



xii A FOREWORD AND A PLEA 

of leanness when Chicory and Buttercups must needs 
come in and hide neglect and failure; the child throve, 
until now, in its maturity, it is a companion that never 
palls, a friend that never fails, a never-ending source of 
refreshment, comfort, and entertainment. 

It seems agreed that a hobby, not overridden, is a 
wise possession for every one, and it has grown on me, 
during these gardening years, that no hobby is so safe and 
sane for a woman as a garden. It centres about the 
home; the children and other members of the family 
may have a part in it; friends enjoy it, and the influence 
of its beauty and sweetness reaches far and wide. In a 
book called "Rural Essays,'* written some seventy 
years ago by Charles Downing, the "father of land- 
scape gardening in America," he asks: '^What is the 
reason that American ladies donH love to work in their 
gardens f' He says they like to "putter about" and 
sow a few China Aster seeds, and that a bouquet upon 
the centre table is a necessity to them, but, beyond this, 
they do not go; and then he draws very uncompli- 
mentary comparisons between us and our English 
cousins. But this was seventy years ago, and I am sure, 
if Mr. Downing could return, he would admit that we 
have begun to take a good deal more than a "puttering" 
interest in our gardens, that we dare to go out of doors 
sensibly clad and dig in the ground, wheel a barrow and 
plant and reap and exult after the manner of our broth- 
ers and husbands, experiencing the delicious weariness 



A FOREWORD AND A PLEA xiii 

caused by exercise of the muscles in the open air which is 
in no way akin to that heavy exhaustion which comes 
from much labour indoors. 

I frequently see, in English gardening periodicals, 
advertisements by women desiring positions as head or 
under gardeners, and there seems to me no reason why 
this should not become one of the professions properly 
open to women. As far as the under-gardener's work is 
concerned, it certainly requires no more physical 
strength and endurance than the work done by many 
women in domestic service, as trained nurses or in 
factories, besides having much to offer on the side of 
health. Of course to be a head-gardener would require 
both training and experience, but this would not, now- 
adays, be a difficult matter, and would become less so as 
the demand for such training grew. I do not wish to en- 
croach upon the domain of man, but it would seem that 
many a woman, under the necessity of earning her own 
living, might find health and renewed youth in such an 
occupation, who now wears herself out and grows old be- 
fore her time doing work of a more confining or nerve- 
wearing nature. 

There is an ancient superstition, still in force, though 
less strong of late years, that it is not quite "nice" for a 
woman to be physically able to do manual labour out of 
doors, and if she is, she should keep quiet about ft. 
When we first came to live in this neighbourhood, where 
there are many small and not very flourishing farms, my 



xiv A FOREWORD AND A PLEA 

activities in the garden were looked upon decidedly 
askance by my neighbours, for in their world a woman's 
social position is more or less determined by whether she 
works indoors or out. That a woman should, by choice, 
spend hours in outdoor work in all kinds of weather was 
inconceivable, and finally a neighbour, who discovered 
me weeding a bed of seedlings on a hot July day, found 
herself unable to keep silent upon the subject and said; 
"There certainly ain't many ladies would work as hard 
for their men as you do, Mrs. Wilder." I tried to ex- 
plain, but knew quite well that it was useless, and that 
she was certain that coercion was at the root of my 
labours. That was seven years ago and I am glad to 
say that the mystery has been cleared up for her and for 
others, and it is a delight to me to see that more than one 
of these indoor workers is essaying a patch of flowers by 
her door and many missionarying roots and seeds find 
their way from here into this promising territory. 

In the old world gardening is recognized not only as a 
science, but as a high art; here it is still largely a pastime 
and not a very general one at that, as any one may per- 
ceive who goes through any of our suburbs and notes the 
number of places that boast no more than a few beds of 
Salvia or Geraniums and a huddle of specimen shrubs in 
the corners of the lawns. Our men are too busy to give 
much time to this art, and while many may have the 
desire and willingly furnish the wherewithal to employ a 
landscape architect to order and beautify their grounds 



A FOREWORD AND A PLEA xv 

and men to keep them up, more than this is needed to 
endow a garden with enduring charm and individuality. 
Just as we wish to feel personality in a room, so do we 
want to feel it in a garden, and this is the reason why 
many a simple cottage garden, personally tended by its 
owner, will be far greater in its appeal than a handsome 
one possessing many attributes of beauty but left en- 
tirely to paid care. And I feel that if our gardens are to 
take their place beside those of the older countries it 
rests with the American women to place them there. A 
number of women have taken up landscape gardening as 
a profession, and this is hopeful, for they will seek to in- 
terest other women in their art; but it is a certainty that 
if every American woman who has a piece of ground 
under her control would spend upon it a small part of 
the taste, ability, and energy which she applies to the 
ordering and beautifying of her home, we should have 
the most beautiful gardens in the world. It seems to 
me, in my enthusiasm, that there could be no more up- 
lifting and refining influence, not only upon the family 
life, but upon the nation at large. 

It was John Sedding whose beautiful and appreciative 
book on "Garden Craft"* I earnestly commend to all 
lovers of the subject, who speaks of the garden as a 
"sweetener of human existence," and says: "Apart 
from its other uses, there is no spot like a garden for cul- 
tivating the kindly social virtues. Its perfectness puts 



* "Garden Craft, Old and New." 



xvi A FOREWORD AND A PLEA 

people upon their best behaviour. Its nice refinement 
secures the mood for politeness. Its heightened beauty 
produces the disposition that delights in what is beauti- 
ful in form and colour. Its queenly graciousness of 
mien inspires the reluctant loyalty of even the stoniest 
mind. Here, if anywhere, will the human hedgehog 
unroll himself and deign to be companionable. Here, 
friend Smith caught by its nameless charm, will drop his 
brassy gabble and dare to be idealistic; and Jones, for- 
getful of the main chance and 'bulls' and 'bears,' will 
throw the rein of his sweeter self and reveal that latent 
elevation of soul and tendency to romance known only 
to his wife." 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

A Foreword and a Plea ix 

CHAPTER 

I. In the Making 3 

II. The Nursery 28 

III. The Day Before Spring and the Next . . 46 

rV. May in the Garden 66 

V. June Magic 84 

VI. July Problems 100 

VII. Waning Summer 115 

VIII. Autumn Beauty 127 

IX. Border Roses and Climbers 140 

X. Border Irises 159 

XL The Lure of the Lily 176 

XII. Who's Who Among the Annuals 188 

XIII. Shrubs 205 

XIV. Flowering Trees in the Borders .... 223 
XV. Green Draperies 235 

XVL Trouble 256 

XVII. Plants for Special Situations 270 

XVIII. The Herb Garden 289 

xvii 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Colored drawing on wrapper. From a painting 
by Miss Winegar 

"A mosaic or tapestry-like effect does not seem 
to me what we want in our home gardens" 

Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

"When down in the garden sweet Daffodil 'un- 
ties her yellow bonnet,' it is a 'time o' dreams' " 54 

"A grand burst of Pseonies usually celebrates 
the arrival of June" --------- 84 

"Wherever the eye wanders is a lovely picture — 
the gay throng of Foxgloves, Sweet Williams, 
Irises, Pseonies, Pinks, and old-fashioned 
Roses" 92 

"Hollyhocks are among the most pictorial of 
plants, and it is very diflBcult to find anything 
else to take their place" - - 102 

"Groups of garnet-jewelled speciosum Lilies here 
and there in the borders lend a touch of ele- 
gance and distinction to the garden" - - - 128 

"Many of these are roses of yesterday, old- 
fashioned, sweet-breathed, and simple" - - 142 

"When one sees the rainbow banners of the Iris 
unfurling along the borders in the sunshine it 
seems highly probable that the mantle of their 
namesake has fallen upon tjiem" ----- 160 

xix 



MY GARDEN 



CHAPTER ONE 

IN THE MAKING 

Take thy plastic spade, it is thy pencil; take thy seed, thy plants, 
they are thy colours. — Mason. 

r' IS well, I think, for all gardeners, present or pros- 
pective, to be reminded that the words "garden," 
"yard," and "orchard" all spring from an Aryan 
root meaning an enclosure; for apparently, in the general 
letting down of barriers, which seems to be the order of 
our day, there is more than a little danger of the garden 
losing one of its greatest charms — that of privacy and 
peaceful seclusion. 

Many suburban places are quite open to the street, so 
that for all freedom from observation their owners may 
enjoy they might as well be in a public park; and often, 
on large country places, the space devoted to flowers is 
not divided from the surrounding country by any 
distinct boundary, but trails away indefinitely, so that 
one quite loses the significant delight of going into the 
garden, of being within an enclosure set apart for a 
special and beautiful purpose. 

For many centuries the idea of a garden as an en- 
closed, protected area prevailed, and, indeed, it is only 

3 



4 MY GARDEN 

recently, since Kent* "leaped the fence and saw that 
all nature was a garden," that such an anomaly as a 
barrierless garden was thought of, much less perpe- 
trated. In the early gardening days of the old world 
walls and stout fences were needed for protection; but 
later, in less strenuous times, were retained for the sake 
of the peace and privacy they insured. And, it seems to 
me, that no pleasanter picture for our emulation can be 
called to mind than those little walled gardens of long 
ago^ — the trim, straight paths, the little beds and nar- 
row, straight borders filled with friendly and lovely 
things, the shadowing Crab and Cherry trees — a spot 
converted from the common land and made intimate and 
personal, sacred to beauty and sweetness, to delight- 
ful work and quiet meditation. To me, a garden un- 
enclosed can never quite deserve the name, however 
beautiful the flowers; and I feel sure that any one who 
has ever owned a garden gate, and known the rare en- 
joyment of passing through and closing it behind him, 
will understand and support my preference. 

There are many ways of encompassing the garden; 
walls of old brick or stone create an especially agreeable 
atmosphere and a splendid background for the flowers, 
but in many cases these are not possible and sometimes 
not desirable, and one has the choice between clipped or 
free-growing hedges, trellis or paling fences, wire fences 
overgrown with vines, or posts set at intervals with ropes 

*WaIpoIe's "Modern Gardening." 



IN THE MAKING 5 

or chains hung between, upon which Roses or other long- 
Hmbed vines may be trained. 

For small gardens or for divisions between different 
parts of large gardens, the wooden trellis, painted white 
or very light green, is extremely pretty; and even the 
white paling fence, when used to enclose simple gardens 
of the cottage type, is both attractive and appropriate. 
But for general use and beauty, next to walls of stone or 
brick, I think a fine evergreen hedge close-clipped to a 
formal line is unsurpassed. The dark colour of this 
hedge throws the brilliancy of the flowers into high re- 
lief and the severity of line creates a charming foil for the 
luxuriant unrestraint within. 

Three true evergreens make satisfactory hedges in our 
Northern climate: our fine Hemlock (Tsuga Canadensis) y 
the Norway Spruce {Picea excelsa), and the common 
American Arborvitse {Thuja occidentalis) , the last of 
which is the least expensive and makes a handsome hedge. 

Privet is very nearly evergreen in our climate, and 
for cheapness, quick growth, and ease of management 
has much to be said in its favour. Many urge against it 
on account of its reputation as a ravenous feeder, but I 
feel that we should not be frightened away from so good 
a shrub on this ground, for it offers us the opportunity of 
having a fine hedge in a comparatively short time and at 
small expense, and where much hedging is to be done 
this latter point must usually be taken into considera- 
tion. Privet should be cut hard back the first two 



6 MY GARDEN 

seasons after planting in early spring — this to insure a 
compact growth at the base — and thereafter the prun- 
ing may be done in June when the spring growth of the 
young shoots is accomplished. 

The management of the evergreen hedge, the first 
few years after planting, is all important, and I think I 
could not do better than to quote the following enlight- 
ening instructions from " The Book of Topiary "* : *' No 
matter how much it is desired to get a hedge quickly 
grown in a certain place, whether for shelter or anything 
else, it is the greatest possible mistake to sacrifice 
strength and substance to a desire to promote rapid 
growth, a result that is certain to occur if a hedge is 
allowed to grow eight or ten feet before it is stopped. 
Nothing should be done to a hedge in the way of clipping 
the same autumn or winter it is planted, and perhaps 
not even the following autumn, but each year afterward 
it should be stopped, and never allowed to make more 
than a few inches of growth each year. By following 
the system of stopping the growth every year, the 
length of time required to grow a hedge eight or ten feet 
in height is greatly extended. But the result will amply 
repay the extra time that has been taken to grow it; 
you will get a hedge full of strength and substance, and 
well furnished with young growths from top to bottom. 
But if the other system is followed of allowing the hedge 
to get to its full height before any clipping is done, you 

♦ "The Book of Topiary," by Charles H. Curtis and W. Gibson. 



IN THE MAKING 7 

will have a hedge that is lacking in strength and sub- 
stance, easily blown out of shape by every wind, and also 
one that is very difficult to clip in anything like a 
proper way, on account of its many strong branches 
growing toward the outside that should have been re- 
moved to make room for a thicker growth. Each year, 
when the work of clipping is being done, a sharp lookout 
should be kept for all small branches or shoots that are 
inclined to grow toward the outside of the tree or hedge, 
and these must be removed whenever they are seen. . . . 
Those shoots in the course of a few years will grow into 
strong branches, and become a regular nuisance in the 
way of keeping them constantly tied in." 

A hedge may be cut into any desired form at the top, 
but exactness is of prime importance. A garden line 
should be run on either side at the bottom of the hedge 
and another along the top at the desired height. In the 
case of a hedge cut into battlements a line should be 
used at the top and base of the battlements, "and what- 
ever size and width the battlements are, say, for in- 
stance, two feet high and two feet in width between 
them, a stick cut exactly two feet in length, or a two- 
foot rule should be used to measure the exact height and 
distance between the battlements.'* 

Some people care for free-growing, flowering hedges, 
but I think they are not positive enough to serve as 
a fence, but may be very charming following paths or 
drives or used as a screen. 



8 MY GARDEN^ 

Having got the garden securely enclosed, the next 
step is the careful preparation of beds and borders, that 
our plants may dwell in peace and wax in strength and 
beauty year after year. And this must be done with 
generosity and thoroughness, a little at a time, if all may 
not be done properly at once, for there is no manner of 
use in trying to raise up a family of fine and vigorous 
plants on food which does not nourish them, or under 
conditions which are not comfortable for them. 

Here we dig out the beds and borders to a depth of 
two feet, filling them in again with alternate layers of 
manure and good soil — a heavy layer of manure at the 
bottom — to within five inches of the top. This is then 
well forked together, and about nine inches of the best 
soil procurable filled into the remaining space, raising it a 
few inches above the surrounding ground to allow for 
settling. This top layer may be the top spit of the soil 
already in the garden, if it is good enough, or it may be 
brought, as in our case, from some old pasture land or 
from the woods. If the soil used to fill the main body of 
the beds is very heavy, the addition of wood ashes and 
sand will be useful in bringing it to the proper state of 
nice loaminess; and if dry and light, the layers of manure 
may be made a little heavier. If this work is done in the 
autumn, as is advisable, a dressing of slaked lime will 
combine with the frost and sunshine in making our soil 
of a most delectable consistency — and surely, all this 
accomplished, no sweet and normal plant would have 



IN THE MAKING 9 

the heart to withhold from us the sunshine of its 
smiles. 

The edging of the beds and borders is rather a vexing 
problem, for upon it depends, a good deal, the appear- 
ance of the garden. All sorts of things have been tried 
from glass bottles and shells to the trim and seemly 
Box. For the garden laying not too great a claim to 
magnificence, I think no edging is prettier than large ir- 
regular stones sunk part way in the earth. Over these 
stones many a charming alpine will creep and tumble so 
grateful for the moist, cool root-run between the stones 
and for the warm surface over which they may spread 
themselves to sun and air that they burst forth with 
such a praise of blossoming that one thinks anxiously of 
the endurance of their little material bodies under the 
strain of so lavish a manifestation of the spirit. Arabis, 
Aubrietia, Alyssum, Arenaria, Saponaria ocymoides, 
Cerastium, Iberis, creeping Veronicas, and Gypsoph- 
ilas, Pinks in delicious variety, Thrift, Stonecrops, 
Silenes, Campanulas, alpine Phloxes, and many an- 
other small and lovely thing will create a jewelled set- 
ting for the taller plants and may be brought, by a little 
care in their arrangement, into delightful harmony 
with the rest of the border. 

Box edgings are charming and create always an at- 
mosphere of sweet and comely reserve, while the "far, 
strict scent,'* rising from its dark, shining surfaces, 
carries one dreaming into the past. Flowers seem to 



10 MY GARDEN 

behave themselves behind Box edgings — they do not get 
out into the path, nor sprawl about, but seem somehow 
imbued with the prim manners of Box — ^but this will be 
considered romancing, and the fact is that Box is fright- 
fully expensive and grows very slowly, but if one can 
afford both to pay for it and to wait for it there is 
nothing quite so good to possess. 

Turf edgings are very popular and always look well if 
taken care of, but they must be kept absolutely true to 
line and shorn the sleekest, or they will present a ragged 
and slovenly appearance. Edgings of brick set on end 
are sometimes used, but the frost is apt to throw them 
out of place during the winter. Concrete edgings are 
durable and satisfactory, and edgings of boards firmly 
pegged into the earth and painted white or green are 
both quaint and useful for unpretentious gardens. 
Grass and Scotch Pinks make pretty border edges, and 
in Elizabethen days Thrift and Germander were much 
utilized for this purpose. Dwarf Irises such as pumila 
and cristata are firm and pretty along the front of the 
borders, and English Ivy, pegged down and trained to 
form an edging, has also been used. Here we have the 
stone edgings mainly, and also some concrete in the 
main garden, and, in the Nursery and Herb garden, we 
have used wood painted white. 

The question of what to put in our beds and borders, 
now that we have them enclosed and trimly edged, is 
such a broad and beguiling one that it may not be 



IN THE MAKING 11 

squeezed into the narrow space of a chapter, and besides, 
each one of us must desire and choose his own flowers or 
he loses the very pith of the pleasure. But a few gen- 
eralities are permissible. Gardens of the most lasting 
satisfaction and beauty are those in which hardy her- 
baceous perennials are the foundation. By these, I 
mean those plants whose leaves and stems die down in 
winter but whose roots endure; among those we include, 
rightly I think, the hardy spring bulbs and Lilies. 
Shrubs also are permanent residents in the garden and 
play an important part, but annuals, tender bedders, 
and such bulbs and roots as Gladioli and Dahlias, are in- 
cidental, mere decorations, subject to our caprice, while 
the herbaceous folk and shrubs come into the garden as 
long-tenure residents, and upon them the stability and 
strength of the garden depends. 

I take it that with most of us the goal aimed at in our 
gardening is not simply to form a large collection of 
plants as specimens, but to so choose and arrange our 
material as to create as fine and full an effect as possible 
over a period of five or six months. This does not pre- 
clude thinking of and treating our plants as individuals; 
quite the contrary, for to meet with any success in the 
management of our garden world, we must know very 
well the needs and habits and possibilities of each of its 
tenants. In pursuance of this end, it is wise to care- 
fully consider one's garden conditions in relation to the 
plants it is desired to install, and not try to force upon 



12 MY GARDEN 

reluctant, helpless plants conditions which are utterly 
unsuitable. For beneficent Nature has so bountifully 
provided for us that no one need be without an over- 
flowing joyous garden if he will but observe her gentle 
laws and respect the simple requirements of her flower 
people. 

The ideal garden has a southern or southeastern ex- 
posure and provides both sunshine and shadow, both 
heavy and light soils, and even a little damp spot for the 
accommodation of a few moisture lovers, and where one 
has the making of one's garden from the very beginning, 
it is often possible to have all these luxuries. 

To go back to the planting of the beds and borders, if 
they are wide, say six to twelve feet, shrubs may be used 
among the hardy plants with fine effect along the back 
and may even venture an occasional representation 
toward the front, so forming alcoves within the shelter 
of which one may create some especially lovely picture. 
Here and there along the borders a lightly made flower- 
ing tree may cast a gracious shadow, and bulbs may be 
planted in clumps and patches everywhere. 

In choosing one's plants it is well to select those whose 
bloom is not too ephemeral and whose habit is good — 
that is, whose form and foliage are fine and lasting, thus 
securing a more permanently full effect. If one is not 
familiar with the appearance of many plants, the botan- 
ical gardens and nurseries offer a valuable means of 
forming a closer acquaintance, and both those institu- 



IN THE MAKING 13 

tions are making some effort nowadays at harmonious 
grouping, which is very helpful to the novice in forming 
an- opinion as to the relative merits of the various plants 
to his particular uses. 

If such plants as Foxgloves, Delphiniums, Valerian 
Canterbury Bells and Oriental Poppies, that die down or 
must be cut to the ground after flowering, are planted in 
front of some of the long-armed brethren, such as hardy 
Asters or Gypsophila, the blank left by their depart- 
ure will bloom again, for the long branches maybe drawn 
over the vacant spaces. Plants with especially fine and 
lasting foliage should be given due prominence. Of these 
are the Flag Irises, Fraxinella, Funkias, Baptisias, Achillea 
filipendulina (A. Eupatorium), Phloxes, Lemon Lilies, 
Geums, Pseonies, Heleniums, Galega, Heucheras, Lyth- 
rum Salicaria, Potentillas, Dicentras, Thalictrums, Ely- 
mus, Santolina, Stachys lanata, Artemisia abrotanum, 
Rue, and Nepeta Mussini. Such scantily clothed plants 
as Lilies, Gladioli, Tuberoses, and Asphodels need the 
foliage of other plants to screen their naked stalks, and 
are always weak in effect if planted in large groups with- 
out this borrowed greenery. 

In small beds and narrow borders, and indeed in any 
save good-sized gardens, plants of great size and per- 
vasive character such as Boltonias, many Helianthuses, 
Polygonums, Bocconia, and Golden Glow, are best 
omitted, and choice made among the more conservative, 
of which there are a great number. 



14 MY GARDEN 

The best effect is arrived at in the borders by mass- 
ing the plants in irregular groups of one kind, the size of 
the group to be determined by the length and breadth of 
the bed or border, and there must be some attention 
paid to gradation in the relative heights of the different 
groups. Thus, a group of some eigh teen-inch plants is 
badly placed in front of one attaining a height of seven 
feet! In the main, tall plants should be kept at the 
back, those of medium height in the centre, and dwarf 
and creeping things along the front, but one need not 
adhere too consistently to this rule but rather strive for 
a rolling contour — plains, foothills, and mountains, if one 
may use so gigantic a simile — the highlands creeping out 
over the plains and the plains reaching back among the 
hills. Spaces may be left here and there for patches of 
long-flowering annuals, and these may also be used to 
fill the places of such hardy plants as may have died 
during the winter. 

There has been much written of late as to how to keep 
the entire garden in full bloom from early spring until 
frost, and varied and vain were my attempts in the days 
of my novitiate to accomplish this feat that I now feel 
would be of doubtful desirability even were it possible. 
In our climate where the importunities of the sun rushes 
our plants from youth to a precocious maturity and on 
to early oblivion, the blossoming period of the individual 
plants is so much shorter than in climates of moister 
atmosphere and less torrid summers that to keep all 



IN THE MAKING 15 

parts of the garden in bloom at all seasons would re- 
quire so immense a variety of plants that a most spotty 
and restless effect would be the result, and such exact 
knowledge of the plants would be necessary that few 
amateurs could hope to acquire it. A few lovely pic- 
tures for each season is about all we can hope to accom- 
plish successfully in the garden devoted to herbaceous 
perennials and designed to be beautiful for six months of 
the year. These pictures may vary in number and size 
according to the dimensions of the garden they are to 
adorn, and may be made up of groups of two or more 
kinds of plants blooming together and for about the 
same length of time. Of course close observation, 
study, and experience are required to so create these 
blossoming groups that at no time is the garden without 
an effective number; and nothing is more helpful than to 
keep an exact record of the blossoming periods of such 
plants as are where we can observe them. 

Garden colour scheming has become something like a 
craze — we talk colour schemes, write colour schemes, 
read them, and try to create them. Like all obsessions, 
this charming pastime is in grave danger of being done 
to death, of degenerating by means of extreme precise- 
ness of finish into something not so far from the carpet 
bedding, which we, in our boasted enlightenment, pro- 
fess to despise. A mosaic or tapestry-like effect does 
not seem to me what we want in our home gardens, but a 
gracious blending and contrasting of lovely elements — 



16 MY GARDEN 

sweeps and patches and trails and spires of delightful 
colour in happy agreement — and certainly there is no 
more enthralling pursuit than the handling of these 
floral pigments. It is not nearly so difficult as it sounds, 
for few flower colours are really fiercely opposed to one 
another, and none are bad if given the companion neces- 
sary to bring out their best qualities. Of course the 
colour sense is individual, and what appeals to one may 
not to another and so, after all, one can but express one's 
own feelings. 

To me, strong contrasts in the garden are seldom 
happy; plants having the same strength of colour are 
best kept out of each other's company, or the resulting 
effect will be crude and hard. The yellow of Coreopsis 
and the deep blue of such a Delphinium as King is, to 
my colour sense, both glaring and impleasant; but 
the soft yellow of California Poppies and the blue of 
Veronica spicata is agreeable. Just so, opaque white 
flowers are not pleasing in close proximity to strong red 
or blue flowers but should have an admixture of soften- 
ing foliage or some intermediate shade. Many flowers, 
quite strong in colour, are, as one might say, tender in 
their strength, a sort of bloom seems to lie upon them 
there, more as an intangible impression than in fact. 
This is true of many blue flowers, some of the Delphin- 
iums, Monkshoods, and Chinese Bellflowers in par- 
ticular, and this quality makes it possible, though I can- 
not explain why, to place them happily with flowers of 



IN THE MAKING 17 

great strength of colour. Thus, Monkshood and Tiger 
LiHes make a most splendid picture quite lacking the 
rawness of Coreopsis and Delphinium though quite as 
brilliant. Harmony, not contrast, or agreement, not 
opposition, is a good rule for the garden colour schemer, 
the great M. Chevreaul to the contrary, notwithstanding. 
That eminent authority on colour in the section de- 
voted to the arrangement of flowers in his book, "The 
Principles of Harmony and Contrast of Colours," directs 
us to place yellow flowers with red flowers, yellow with 
blue, deep red with deep blue, and white with any and 
all. But pink flowers must not approach rose flowers, 
yellow must be wary of orange, and blue and pink must 
not touch violet. Are we thus to be deprived of such 
subtle and exquisite associations as Peach Blossoms and 
purple Crocuses, lavender and pink China Roses, 
lavender Phlox and blue Monkshood, dark-red Holly- 
hocks and orange Lilies, sky-blue Flax and purple Iris, 
and a thousand more? 

As I said before, the colour sense must ever be in- 
dividual and one's expression of it original and personal, 
but there are a few simple laws which have helped me 
greatly in the harmonious disposition of my flowers. 
Contrast between the primary colours, red, blue, and 
yellow, is too harsh and sudden; contrast between the 
secondary colours, green, violet, and orange, while strik- 
ing, is not crude or raw. White is constantly spoken of 
as a peacemaker and much used in gardens to separate 



18 MY GARDEN 

discordant colours, but, while it separates them, it so 
heightens the tone of each that, instead of drawing them 
into agreement, it further opposes them to each other, 
and instead of a charming whole ^ we see three sharply 
contrasting units. 

The too free use of white in the garden, especially 
the hard white worn by Moonpenny Daisies, Iberis, and 
Canterbury Bells, will ever result in spottiness and un- 
rest. I feel that the gardener should get his effects by 
gentle measures; his groups may, if desired, be strong in 
colour, but at the same time, deep and rich, not high and 
sharp. And this result can be obtained only by the use 
of strong colours closely related to one another. 

A few years ago I saw at the wonderful gardens of 
St. Fagans Castle in Wales a border which will illus- 
trate this point. It was about seventy yards long and 
eight feet wide and was backed by a high wall curtained 
with creamy Wichuraiana Roses. Against this soften- 
ing background, in bold groups, were garnet and salmon- 
coloured Hollyhocks, with alternating groups of dull 
blue Monkshood lying like shadows between. In front 
were great colonies of flaming Tritomas, Tiger Lilies, 
gray-blue Delphiniums, blazing Montbretia, and tall 
salmon-pink Snapdragons. Along the front, rioting 
above the trim Box edging, were Orange King Snap- 
dragons, buff Calendula, and scarlet and sky-blue 
Anagallis. Daring indeed, but inspired, was he who 
brought those colours together. Arresting in its bril- 



IN THE MAKING 19 

liance, this border was yet visualized as a magnificent 
whole which seemed to reflect the luminosity and glow 
of the sunset sky, filling one's soul with a sense of ful- 
ness, strength, and satisfaction. How different was the 
border seen a few days ago, where a splendid effect was 
attempted by the use of Delphiniums, Scarlet Lychnis, 
and Coreopsis. There the colours were no more brilliant, 
but being so fiercely opposed, the result was one of rest- 
less motion — floral fidgets, one might say — and one was 
forced to see and consider each plant as a separate 
element. 

Dark, rich colours — garnet, purple, very dark blue, 
and the dark green of Box or other evergreens — are 
more efficient than white in harmonizing crude opposing 
colours, for they tend to lower their tones instead of 
heightening them. Note the softening effect of dark 
garnet velvet Sweet Williams upon the raw colour of 
Lychnis chalcedonica. Gray foliage, in even greater 
degree than white, accentuates the colours to which 
it is contiguous and, like white, is most satisfying 
when associated with the tender broken tones — ^laven- 
der, pinky-mauve, heliotrope, blush, rose, pink, salmon, 
cream, and buff. Gray and the various white tones — 
cream, gray-white, and greenish-white — also associate 
well, and all these soft shades are charming in each other's 
company and may be used freely with the primary and 
secondary colours. 

Some people are much more highly sensitive to colour 



20 MY GARDEN 

than others, and to these, after they have acquired some 
knowledge of their floral pigments, the creating of 
lovely pictures in the garden will be instinctive; but 
those whose colour sense is less developed must culti- 
vate it as a tea taster educates his palate, or as a per- 
fumer his olfactory nerve. Nature may be his teacher, 
the woods and fields and marshes at all seasons his class- 
room ; and the daring or tender blendings of colours in a 
single flower should be a constant help and inspiration. 

Magenta is a colour that gives the gardener a good 
deal of trouble, but there are many fine flowers wearing 
this turbulent shade which are lovely enough if re- 
moved from the neighbourhood of antagonistic shades 
and placed in congenial surroundings. The clouded 
blue of Monkshood is fine with the magenta of Rose 
Loosestrife and all the buff, creamy, and gray-white 
flowers and gray foliage encourage this usually com- 
bative tint to show its softest side. The two colours 
most difficult to me are the raw scarlet of the Lychnis 
and the crude yellow worn by Coreopsis and some of the 
sunflowers, but even these may be modifled and brought 
into peaceful agreement with their surroundings by the 
near neighbourhood of softening influences. 

Personally, gardens of one colour do not interest me 
particularly, though I have seen many very well worked 
out. Yellow gardens contrived in all the shades from 
buff and cream to orange are very effective, and also the 
purple tints from palest mauve, with much silvery and 



IN THE MAKING 21 

hoary foliage, to strong red-purple and violet. White 
gardens, too, are very charming, especially toward even- 
ing or by moonlight. The finest one I have seen was in 
England and was made up of annuals, perennials, 
bulbs, Roses, and shrubs. I put down the names of 
most of the plants in a notebook and give it here for 
those who may care to create a "ghost garden." 

Bulbs. 

Chionodoxa Luciliae var. alba. White Crocus, Galanthus nivalis 
and Elwesii, Scilla sibirica var. alba, White Tulips and Grape 
Hyacinths, Fritillaria Meleagris var. alba, Hyadnthus orientalis, 
Leucojum vernum. Poet's Narcissus. 

Spanish and English Iris, Madonna Lilies, Hyadnthus candicans. 
Gladioli. 

Plants. 

Helleborus niger. Anemone nemorosa, sylvestris, and Pulsatilla 
var. alba, Arabis, Arenaria montana, Iberis, Cerastium, Dicentra 
cucullaria, Laihyrus vernus var. alba, Omphalodes verna, var. alba, 
white Iceland Poppies, Phlox subulata vars. Nelsoni and alba, 
Bloodroot, white Trilliums, white Periwinkle, white sweet Violets, 
St. Brunos Lily, white Columbine, Sweet WoodruflF, Centaurea 
montana var. alba, Lily of the Valley, Dianthus Mrs. Sinkins, Iris 
florentina var. alba. Iris Innocence, Iris Snowqueen, 7m sibirica 
var. alba. White Flax, white Pseonies — single and double, white 
Sweet William, Jacob's Ladder, and Spiderwort, Silene alpestris 
Stellaria Holostea, Fraxinella, Achillea The Pearl, White Foxgloves, 
and Canterbury Bells, Campanula persicifolia var. alba, carpathica 
var. alba, pyramidclis var. alba and lactijlora alba magnifica. 
Moonpenny Daisies, Clematis recta, Crambe cordifolia, Gypsophila 
paniculata and repens, white Goat's-rue, Sweet Rocket, Heuchera 
sanguinea var. alba. White Lupines, Oenothera eximea. White 
Chinese Bellflowers, Silene maritima. Spiraea aruncus, Yucca 
Jilamentosa, Aconitum napellus var. album, white Willow herb, 



%% MY GARDEN 

Funkia suhcordata, white Bergamot, Phlox Miss Lingard and late 
white Phloxes, Physostegia virginica var. alba. Sedum album, 
Boltonia, Pyrethrum uliginosum, Pentstemon Digitalis, Cimicifuga, 
white Mallows, Anemone Japonica vars. alba and Whirlwind, 
white Hardy Asters, Chrysanthemum nipponicmn, Veronica vir- 
ginica, Artemisia lactijiora. 

Annuals. 

Petunias, Verbenas, Phlox Drummondii, Sweet Alyssum, Candy- 
tuft, Stocks, Snapdragons, Sweet Sultans, Asters, Clarkia, single 
and double Poppies, Cosmos, and single Dahlias. 

Besides these there were climbing and bush Roses, 
pure white or creamy, and many white-flowered shrubs — 
Magnolias, Lilacs, Philadelphus, Spirsea, and Deutzia, 
white Wisteria and large and small flowered Clematis. 
The garden was enclosed in a hedge of dark evergreens 
and gleamed and shimmered against the sombre back- 
ground with strange fascination. Gray foliage might be 
put to effective use in such a garden, and a list of suitable 
plants will be found in the chapter, "Plants for Special 
Situations." 

THE UPKEEP OF THE BORDERS 

Keeping the borders in good order during the summer 
is a simple matter if a few tasks are faithfully performed. 
The first and most important of them is staking — a 
matter in which all our ingenuity may be employed. If 
not done at all or if badly done, the finest garden will, 
after the first hard storm, be a sad spectacle. In ex- 
posed gardens there are few plants over medium height 
which do not require support, and even in sheltered 



IN THE MAKING 23 

gardens it is best to stake all fairly tall plants that have 
slender stems. 

The most important point about staking is that it 
shall be done as inconspicuously as possible and in such 
a manner that the plant is not diverted from its natural 
habit of growth. For most purposes, the green wooden 
stakes, for sale by all seed houses, are best adapted. 
Plants with a single stem, such as Lilies, Foxgloves, and 
Mulleins, may have the stake (always considerably 
shorter than the full height of the plant) placed behind 
the stem and secured with green raffia about the centre 
of the stem, leaving the upper half to curve gracefully 
at will. It may be necessary to change the stakes once, 
anyway, during the growth of very tall plants, and such 
strong growing plants as Mulleins, Hollyhocks, and 
Dahlias will require very heavy stakes. Plants with 
many stems, such as Boltonias and Heleniums, should 
have several heavy stakes placed in and about the 
clumps with strong cord stretched from stake to stake, 
thus allowing all the stems to maintain their natural 
position while still being upheld. The fine appearance 
of such plants is quite spoiled if they are bunched to- 
gether and tied to a single stake. 

Plants with long, weak stems and broad, heavy 
flower heads, as Michaelmas Daisies and Gypsophila 
paniculata, are best supported on pea brush, the weak 
stems being drawn over and tied to the spreading 
branches of the brush. When the plants have attained 



24 MY GARDEN 

their full height, any unsightly ends of the brush may be 
cut off. 

The removal of all withered flowers is of considerable 
importance in the fair appearance of the garden. The 
self-sown seedlings of many plants — Phlox, for instance 
— are a real nuisance; and besides this, most annuals, 
and a fair number of perennials, may be kept in bloom 
for a greatly lengthened period if the plants are not 
allowed to seed. This is particularly true of Moon- 
penny Daisies, Geums, Erigeron speciosus, and the 
hardy Cornflower (Centaurea montana). The blooming 
period of Phlox, Mulleins, and Anchusas may be ex- 
tended if the flower stalk is cut just below the lowest 
blossom; auxiliary flower stems will then be sent out at 
once. Foxgloves may be bewitched into perennialism if 
the flower stalks are cut to the ground immediately 
after fading. Hardy young plants will form around 
the old crown. This is also true of Hollyhocks. Many 
low-growing plants, such as Pinks, Aubrietias, Iberis, 
Cerastium, Sun Roses, and Golden Alyssum are much 
benefited by a severe shearing after their bloom is past. 
They are apt to become very untidy in appearance, but if 
well cut back will soon regain their tidy, rounded form. 

In the summer care of the garden, cultivation of the 
soil is more important than watering. The latter 
should not be done at all unless thoroughly — that is, the 
soil soaked at least two inches below the surface. Our 
own method is to stick the rake handle in the ground. 



IN THE MAKING 25 

placing the hose nozzle between the tines and allowing 
it to remain in one spot for several hours. In dry 
weather it takes two or three days to get all round the 
garden but the effect is lasting, and when this method is 
used the watering may be done in full sunshine without 
injury to the plants. 

The soil of the beds and borders should be kept well 
stirred always, as this not only conserves the moisture 
but does much toward discouraging weeds. We always 
stir the soil after a heavy rain, for the soil is then most 
apt to form a hard crust. 

After the garden has been made for a year or two, 
some renovation will be required each succeeding year. 
This is best done in the autumn. The large spreading 
clumps of plants need to be lifted and divided and the 
soil enriched, and this, with the beds and borders full of 
bulbs and the ground between the larger plants pretty 
well carpeted with creeping things, is rather difficult. 
Each fall we decide upon a certain section of the garden 
to be "done over," then in early October we take every- 
thing out of that section except shrubs and climbers. 
The bulbs are dug up carefully and laid in piles on 
the garden-house porch and labelled, and the plants 
are also taken up, divided, and set in the shade. The 
space is then well spaded and a quantity of well-rotted 
manure, with a generous supply of wood ashes, is in- 
corporated with the soil. When the surface is raked 
smooth, we replace the disturbed inhabitants, adding 



26 MY GARDEN 

some and leaving out others that did not come up to the 
standard. We attempt only what we can finish in a 
day, as the plants must not be long left out of the 
ground, and we manage to get all round the garden 
about every three years. 

Some plants, such as Japanese Anemones, Pseonies, 
Fraxinella, and Sea Lavender, with a known antipathy 
for interference, we dig carefully around and arrange a 
little tempting food within their reach. 

In a series of very helpful articles which appeared in 
The Garden for February and March, 1914, Mr. Brother- 
son writes the following: "I know there exists a kind of 
horror at the thought of introducing a spade among 
established herbaceous plants, the dear roots being 
objects of much concern, lest they should be severed. 
May I express the conviction that nothing better could 
happen to the plants next to lifting and replanting. By 
digging deeply and carefully among them they are di- 
vested of useless roots and an improved root run is pro- 
vided, into which new roots to take the place of those 
removed will quickly find their way, to the great bene- 
fit of the plants. Manure about twelve months old is 
best fitted for mixing with the soil under these condi- 
tions." I have seen the beautiful gardens at Preston- 
kirk, Scotland, over which Mr. Brotherson presides, and 
their superb well-being is all the testimony required that 
this seemingly drastic treatment is not only safe but 
most efficacious. 



IN THE MAKING 27 

In closing this chapter I should like in some way to 
make others feel the joy of doing at least a part of the 
garden work one's self; do not turn all this possible 
pleasure over to some one else. Many women will con- 
tend that they are not strong enough and, of course, 
very sadly, some are not; but the rest will, I feel sure if 
they make an attempt, be greatly astonished at their 
power which will increase tenfold as the magic of fresh 
air and sunshine gets in its rejuvenating work, and those 
same timid ones will be astonished at, and I hope thank- 
ful for, the sound sleep, the quiet mind, and the absorb- 
ing interest which will be theirs. "It is of those few 
pleasures which age cannot wither," and for this rea- 
son alone one might do well to give it a trial. Love 
your garden and work in it and let it give you what it 
surely will of sweetness, health, and content, and let no 
one feel that the benefit is all on the side of the garden, 
for truly you will receive more than you give, no matter 
how faithfully you work, and you will soon find your- 
self more dependent upon your garden than your garden 
upon you. 



CHAPTER TWO 



THE NURSERY 



Labour is the House that Love dwells in. 

— Russian Proverb. 

A LL nurseries summon our interest and sympathy 
JL\ whether they shelter human babies or those of 
-^ -^ the animal kingdom, and the nursery which 
guards seedUng plants is not by any means the least in 
its appeal to our tender protectiveness and maternal 
solicitude. 

These little babies of the plant world need us and de- 
pend upon our care. If we neglect them, they languish; 
if we desert them, they perish; we must feed them, pro- 
tect them from cold or extreme heat, nurse them if 
assailed by disease, and watching carefully their growth 
provide, when it is needed, a wider sphere in which they 
may expand and develop. Wherever there are young 
and tender things looking to us for support, there are we 
apt to be deeply interested, and herein lies the fascina- 
tion of the plant nursery. A garden is as incomplete 
without this adjunct as a home, and no gardener knows 
the full joy of his craft who does not care for his plants 
from seedhood to maturity, making them his own as no 
bought plants can ever be. To buy plants already past 

28 



THE NURSERY 29 

the dangers of infancy is a convenience and sometimes 
wise, but besides being very expensive, one is depriving 
one's self of one of the most beautiful and illuminating of 
experiences. 

A nursery may be a pot or box of earth in a sunny 
window, or it may be a piece of ground of any size to 
suit the convenience and desire of the gardener, from a 
small seed bed to a large tract of land designed to raise 
great numbers of plants for a very large garden. As 
striking a happy medium between these two, and an- 
swering satisfactorily the needs of a modest garden, I 
will describe our own nursery and its uses. It lies in 
two exactly similar squares at the back of the walled 
garden, and on either side of the Herb garden. A 
Privet hedge encloses it on two sides, the low wall and 
trellis fence of the Herb garden the third, and the high 
wall of the flower garden on the fourth, which also pro- 
tects it from the north and provides a sheltered situation 
for certain tender things. On the lower section this space 
along the wall is occupied by a small tool-house, a row of 
covered bins to hold silver sand, coarse sand, and leaf- 
mold, and the cold frames which are four feet deep and 
divided into six sections. A four-foot border extends all 
round the two nurseries and the rest is parcelled out into 
rectangular beds three and four feet wide and of varying 
lengths, with gravel paths between. The little beds are 
enclosed by board edgings firmly pegged into the ground 
at the corners and painted white, as is all the woodwork 



30 MY GARDEN 

in the nurseries. There are a number of hose outlets, 
that all may be kept sweet and fresh, the hedges are 
sharply clipped, the paths trim and free from weeds, and 
the straight rows of lusty young plants in the beds speak 
eloquently of their entire comfort and well-being. This 
is the fountain head of the whole garden and as such can- 
not be too carefully conducted. The border that fol- 
lows the boundaries is used as a hospital for sick or sulky 
plants brought from the gardens, as a temporary abode 
for some which have been crowded out of one place and 
not yet assigned to another, and as a cutting garden. 
The rectangular beds, which by reason of their narrow- 
ness are easily weeded and cultivated, are mainly used to 
house the young perennials raised in the frames, but 
here also are brought bulbs and plants new to us, that 
they may be tested and understood before being in- 
troduced to the choice circle beyond the garden wall. 
The soil in these beds is light and only moderately rich, 
that the young plants may find no obstacle to their 
tender rootlets, and that they may not be rushed on to a 
too precocious development through overfeeding. The 
soil in the outside borders, as devoted to the more ma- 
ture, is somewhat heavier and richer. 

The propagation of plants is the chief business carried 
on in the nursery. This is done by means of seeds, cut- 
tings, and the division of roots. There is no more ab- 
sorbing occupation than raising plants from seed. I 
never quite get over the wonder of my early gardening 



THE NURSERY 31 

days, that seeds come up at all, and that they fulfil 
very nearly their catalogue descriptions. But they do, 
in the main, and while some are not quite so gorgeous 
and accommodating as their sponsors would have us be- 
lieve, others are lovely and sweet, quite beyond the 
power of the cataloguist to describe. 

Hawthorne wrote: "It is one of the most bewitching 
sights in the world to observe a hill of beans thrusting 
aside the soil, or a row of early peas just peeping forth 
suflSciently to trace a line of delicate green." And how 
much more bewitching, when we can follow in imagi- 
nation this delicate green embroidery to its final 
realization of colour and fragrance, rather than to the 
predestined material end of Hawthorne's peas and 
beans. 

Occasionally we have rebelliously to realize that 
"often out of fifty seeds great Nature brings but one to 
bear," but while this is probably true of the seed of wild 
plants, left to the mercy of all sorts of adverse condi- 
tions, it need very seldom be true in the garden, if a few 
simple and sensible laws are observed. In the first 
place, it is all important to procure good, sound seed, and 
so we should apply to the best seed houses only, and be 
willing to pay a fair price. Next to the vitality of, or 
power of the seed to reproduce itself, the soil is the im- 
portant matter. It should be light, moderately rich, 
and pervious to moisture, and whether the seeds are to 
be raised in a frame, in the open ground, or in a flat in- 



32 MY GARDEN 

doors, the preparation of the soil and the treatment of 
the seeds is in the main identical. The prepared soil for 
the seed bed need not be deeper than five inches, and a 
good composition is two parts good garden soil, one part 
leaf -mold, and one part coarse sand, with a good sprink- 
ling of wood ashes. This should be chopped and raked 
smooth, and upon the top should be spread an inch of 
good soil, or leaf-mold and fine sand, in equal parts, put 
through a moderately fine sieve. We use the frames 
almost entirely for raising seeds, it is so much safer than 
the open ground, and we find infant mortality greatly 
lessened if manure, either fresh or old, is not used, 
as it frequently harbours insects, or their eggs, which 
ravenously feed upon the tender seedlings. That 
they may be easily weeded and otherwise cared for, 
seeds are best sown in straight rows five or six inches 
apart, and not scattered broadcast, and each row should 
have at its head a wooden label, bearing the name of the 
plant and the date of sowing written with an indelible 
pencil. 

Large seeds such as those of Lupines, Iris, or Lathyrus, 
may be soaked in warm water for a few hours before 
planting, and sown in drills a half inch deep. For seeds 
of medium size. Delphiniums, Pinks, or Geums, we pre- 
pare a place by pressing a lath (cut to fit the width of 
the frame or bed) firmly into the soil, and sow the seed 
upon this flat surface, covering it to about twice its own 
depth with sandy soil. Seeds of the light and feathery 



THE NURSERY 33 

character of Gaillardias, Centaureas, and Armeria profit 
by a greater depth of covering than the heavier seeds. 

Thin sowing of all seed is important, but particularly 
so in the case of very fine seed like that of Verbascums 
which grow into huge plants. If the seed is mixed with 
a little silver sand before sowing, it is more easily and 
evenly distributed. Fine seed needs no covering, but 
should be sown on the loose surface of the soil and 
pressed in with a flat board. Many alpines have fine 
seed, and as some of them are also very slow in germinat- 
ing, we sow them in shallow pots of prepared soil which 
are placed in the frames but can be moved about at will. 
The soil should be thoroughly moist before seed is sown 
upon it, and the watering thereafter should be done 
through a fine rose spray, for the seeds are easily washed 
from the earth, and nothing so disturbs a tiny plant as a 
rude stream of water. 

Seeds vary much in the time they take to germinate. 
Annuals are, as a rule, much more expeditious than 
perennials, the average time required by most of them 
being from three to five days, while perennials take any- 
where from ten days to a year or two. Thus, sometimes 
when we think we have met with failure, it is not so, but 
simply that the psychological moment for germination 
has not yet arrived. Pinks, Poppies, Wallflowers, Fox- 
gloves, and Hollyhocks germinate in a short time, while 
Adonis, Hepatica, Dictamnus, Christmas Rose, Ere- 
murus, and the beautiful California Tree Poppy (Romn- 



34 MY GARDEN 

eya Coulteri) may be a year or more in rousing their 
little green souls to energy and action. Being rather 
impatient for results, I do not care to raise these slow- 
coaches from seed, and buy them ready grown^ — but if 
growing them from seed is undertaken, they should be 
planted somewhat deeper than would ordinarily be the 
case, in some spot where they may take their time, se- 
cure from disturbance — and carefully labelled. 

Until the little green backs are seen to hump up along 
the straight rows, the seed bed is best entirely protected 
from the sun, and should thereafter have full sunshine 
for part of the day only, and the soil must never dry out. 
One good drying out may mean death to a whole frame 
full of green babies — a calamity not to be borne with 
resignation. 

Seeds may be sown indoors in a box in January, 
February, and March, and pricked out into other boxes 
when large enough to handle. An outdoor seed bed is 
best not started until May. Here we have found the 
use of the cold frames so invaluable for raising tender 
annuals and perennials that we use no other means, 
save when the frames are overcrowded and we must re- 
sort to the hot beds in the kitchen garden, or entrust 
such reliable folk as Sweet William, Coreopsis, and Fox- 
gloves to the open air. In the frames the little plants 
are much more easily protected from all the blights that 
lay in wait for infant plant life — frost and sun, drought 
and beating rains, weeds, insects, and all forms of de- 



THE NURSERY 35 

structive animal life. We sow tender annuals late in 
March, keeping the lights down save for an occasional 
airing on fine days and covering them with mats at 
night. The perennials we sow in late April. To pro- 
tect the seedlings from the too fierce attentions of the sun 
we use a light framework of inch strips nailed an inch 
apart to a somewhat heavier bottom and top strip. 
These are made to fit the frame sections, and remain on 
after the glass is permanently lifted upon the arrival of 
warm weather. Thus the seedlings are always pro- 
tected from the sun, which would otherwise cause the 
speedy evaporation of the moisture, and also from the 
beating of our heavy spring and summer rains. 

When the seedlings have stretched themselves to a 
size requiring more room, other quarters must be given 
them. The tender annuals are thinned out and trans- 
planted to another frame, but the more deliberate per- 
ennials are not moved until they may be set out in 
the nursery, which is usually some time in June. A 
cloudy day is the best for this task, and we use a small 
mason's trowel to dig up the tiny plants, depositing 
them in a lard pail of water to prevent drying of the 
tender rootlets. Small holes are dug with the mason's 
trowel, deep enough to take the little plants without 
bending, and are filled part way with soil, well watered, 
and the rest filled up with dry earth. If the weather is 
hot and dry, we cover choice or difficult seedlings with 
inverted flower pots during the heat of the day and 



36 MY GARDEN 

water well after sundown, while to protect the sturdier 
stock, we use slat frames similar to those before de- 
scribed but made to fit and rest upon the board en- 
closures of the nursery beds. The young plants remain 
in the nursery until the autumn or following spring, when 
they have reached a size enabling them to make their 
appearance in the great world of the flower garden. 

Plants apt to be frail in youth, such as Lavender and 
Wallflowers, are given the protection of a frame over 
their first winter. Pansies and Snapdragons are also 
carried safely over, and seedlings born too late in the 
season to be trusted to a winter in the open air. 

The following is a list of perennials we have raised 
from seed in the manner described. One packet each of 
the kinds named will give thousands of little plants, 
enough to stock a very large garden, and will cost under 
$15. Consider the cost of a thousand plants bought at 
ten, fifteen, or twenty -five cents each, and the advantage 
of the nursery is obvious ! 

Those marked * in the list are alpines and require a 
little more care. 

Achilleas, in var. 

Aconitum Napellus and Wilsonii. 

Aethionema coridifolium* and grandiflorum*. 

Alyssum vars. saxatile compactum and rostratum. 

Anchusa italica Dropmore Variety. 

Aquilegia chrysantha, caerulea and californica. 

Arahis alhida and alpina. 

Arenaria montana. 

Armeria maritima and latifolia. 



THE NURSERY 37 

Asters, Hardy, in var. 

Aubrietia, in var. 

Agrostemma coronaria. 

Baptisia australis. 

Calandrinia umbellata. 

Campanula carpatica, glomerata, ladiflora, latifolia, pusilla*, persi- 
cifolia and pyramidalis. 

Callirhoe involucrata. 

Canterbury Bells. 

Catananche caerulea. 

Centaurea macrocephala and montana. 

Centranthus coccineus. 

Cerastium tomentosum. 

Chrysanthemum maximum, in var. 

Clematis davidiana and recta. 

Corydalis lutea and cheilanthifolia. 

Coreopsis grandiflora. 

Crucinella stylosa. 

Cytisus scoparius hybrids. 

Delphiniums, in var. 

Dianthus arenarius*, caesius*, deltoides, fragrans, neglectus*, super- 
bus, sylvestris*, plumarius. 

Digitalis alba, purpurea and ambigua. 

Draba aizoides*. 

Erigeron speciosus and aurantiacus. 

Erinus alpinus*. 

Eryngium alpinum, maritimum and giganteum. 

Erysimum rupestre* (syn. pulchellum). 

Gaillardia grandiflora. 

Galega officinalis. 

Geum Heldreichii. 

Gypsophila paniculata and repens*. 

Helenium, in var. 

Helianthemum, in var. 

Helianthus, in var. 

Heuchera sanguinea and brizoides. 

Hollyhock. 



38 MY GARDEN 

Hypericum calycinum and repens*. 

Iberis sempervirens. 

Iris, in var. 

Lathyrus luteus var. aureus. 

Lavendula, in var. 

Linaria alpina*, and dalmatica. 

Linum alpinum*, flavum, narbonense, perenne. 

Lunaria biennis. 

Lupinus polyphylliis, in var. 

Lychnis alpina*, chalcedonica, Viscaria splendens. 

Malva moschata var. rosea. 

Myosotis, in var. 

Papaver orientate, nudicaule, and pilosum. 

Platycodon grandiflorum and Mariessi. 

Potentilla, in var. 

Pyrethrum roseum. 

RudbecJcia purpurea and Newmani. 

Salvia azurea and pratensis. 

Saponaria ocymoides var. splendens. 

Scabiosa caucasica and japonica. 

Silene acaulis*, alpestris*, Asterias*, Schafta*. 

Sweet Rocket. 

Sweet William. 

Thymus, in var. 

Tunica saxifraga. 

Verbascum, in var. 

Veronica incana, spicata, saxatilis*. 

Wallflower. 

Much of the success in growing biennials from seed 
lies in starting them early so that we shall have large 
plants by the time we are ready to put them in perma- 
nent places. If sowing is put off until July, as is often 
recommended, we seldom have plants that are strong 
enough to bloom the following season. The best results 
accrue from sowing in the frames in early April or in an 



THE NURSERY 39 

outdoor seed bed not later than the first of May. True^ 
biennials are Foxgloves, Canterbury Bells, Verbascum 
olymj)icu7n, Campanula pyramidalis, Lunaria biennis^ 
and Anchusa Italica. A number of plants, not true 
biennials, are much more satisfactory when treated as 
such. Of these are Sweet William, Hollyhock, Wall- 
flower, Columbine, Lupines, Sweet Rocket, and Forget- 
me-not. 

Plants of large leaves and sturdy growth, such as 
Campanulas, Hollyhocks, Mulleins, Foxgloves, and An- 
chusas, should be sown in a frame to themselves, as they 
would quickly overpower small plants and tiny alpines. 

It is interesting and helpful to make the acquaint- 
ance of a certain number of new plants every year. We 
usually try to grow at least a dozen new kinds from seed 
and to get half a dozen unfamiliar plants from a nursery. 
In this way one soon makes a very large circle of ac- 
quaintances, many of which become permanent friends. 
Sometimes we grow all the kinds of Pinks we can get 
hold of, sometimes it is Campanulas, and this year we 
grew a number of Silenes and a fine collection of 
Aubrietias. 

DIVISION 

All herbaceous plants having spreading, fibrous roots 
are easily propagated by division done either in early 
spring, just as growth is starting, or in September, when 
growth is practically accomplished. Spring flowering 



I 



40 MY GARDEN 

plants are best divided in September, but summer and 
fall flowering plants may be done at either season. 
Division is necessary to many kinds of hardy perennials, 
for if allowed to grow into large clumps, they seem to 
lose vitality, bloom in an inferior manner, and frequently 
winter kill. Most plants are benefited by division every 
year after they are three years old. This is particularly 
true of such lusty growers as Boltonias, Phlox, Helen- 
iums, Helianthus, Pyrethrums, Monarda, Nepeta Mus- 
sini, Doronicums, Rudbeckias, Perennial Asters, Chrys- 
anthemums, Moonpenny Daisies, Achilleas, Primroses, 
Anthemis, Aconites, and Valeriana. 

Oriental Poppies, Baptisias, Gypsophila paniculata 
and Anemone Japonica, do not require such frequent 
division, while Pseonies, Fraxinella, and Statice latifolia 
are best left untouched year after year to grow in 
grace and beauty. '^ Small tufted plants, with bunches of 
fibrous roots, are easily pulled apart with the fingers, 
while such thick-rooted subjects as Flag Irises are 
managed with a sharp knife or hatchet. Plants having 
roots like the Phlox and Heleniums may be simply cut 
up with a spade. Old clumps may be cut up into many 
promising plants that will far outshine the old ones in 
perfection of bloom. 

CUTTINGS 

Propagating plants by means of cuttings is not so 
much practised by the amateur, as the two other 



THE NURSERY 41 

methods answer nearly every purpose. Roses, however, 
are best increased by cuttings, and Pinks are easily 
multiplied in this manner. When one has something 
particularly nice in the way of an alpine Pink, or some 
pretty garden variety, it is best not to trust to its seed, 
for Pinks cross so easily that they cannot be depended 
upon to come true to type. After the Pink has flowered 
and new growth has started, take a nice new shoot three 
or four inches long and cut it off just below the point 
where a pair of leaves clasps the stem — this is a joint. 
These two leaves should be removed and the cutting is 
then ready to plant. It should be inserted in wet sand 
which must never be allowed to dry out, and the cutting 
should be carefully shaded from the sun. There will be 
roots in a week or ten days, and in a few days more the 
little plant may be shifted to better soil, either in small 
pots, a frame, or in a spot in the nursery, not fully ex- 
posed to the sun. 

Plants of a woody character take longer to root, thus. 
Rose cuttings will be from four to five weeks putting 
forth roots. Rose cuttings may be taken at any time of 
the growing year, but for amateurs the best time is in 
summer, when a young shoot has developed a flower- 
bud to about the size of a pea. The shoot may be 
several inches long and the flower-bud is, of course, re- 
moved. Insert in damp sand in the same manner as 
Pinks. Some Roses root with difficulty — the lovely 
Moss Roses for instance, but Teas and Chinas and many 



42 MY GARDEN 

of the climbers root readily enough. Many shrubs may 
be increased in this same way, using young shoots, but it 
should be borne in mind that if cuttings wilt from lack 
of water, or from too great exposure to the sun, they 
seldom revive. 

THE TOOL-HOUSE 

A well-stocked tool-house is not only a necessity but 
a great pleasure. We do not need a great many imple- 
ments, but those we do have should be in good order and 
kept in a dry place, easy of access. The tool-house should 
be fitted with shelves and a work bench, and I find a com- 
fortable chair is not to be despised. Upon the shelves, 
hanging on the walls, or otherwise disposed about the 
little room, will be found : 

Two 25-foot lengths of light cotton-covered hose; two wheel- 
barrows — one large, the other small and light; one spade, one 
shovel, two rakes, hght and heavy; two hoes, hght and heavy; turf 
cutter, lawn mower, sickle, grass shears, potato fork, pick, one broad 
trowel, one narrow transplanting trowel, small mason's trowel, 
weeders, one long-nosed and one short-nosed watering can, powder 
and spray bellows, one heavy broom, heavy and light pruning 
shears, a pair of large scissors and a sharp knife, dibble, several 
sized baskets, a garden reel with balls of twine and raffia, a fine 
sieve, plenty of green stakes varying from the slender one and a 
half foot ones to the tall, strong Dahlia stakes; several hundred 
wooden labels of different sizes, and indelible pencils; wall hooks, 
brads and nails, a hammer and a light saw. 

Also I like to keep several pots of green and white paint 
-to hand, with brushes in good order and ready for use. 



THE NURSERY 43 

Besides these tools, the tool-house should be stocked 
with a few insecticides and commercial fertilizers, so that 
when the occasion arises the proper remedy or tonic will 
be at hand and time will not be lost in procuring it. 
Directions for use come with the packages. The ma- 
terial and its application is shown here: 

Bordeaux Mixture (liquid) — for fungous diseases. (One gallon 

makes a barrel of liquid.) 
Bordeaux Mixture (dry) — for mildew and fungous diseases. 
Hellebore— all sucking insects. 
Kerosene emulsion — plant lice and aphis, scale. 
Slug-shot — good general insecticide. 
Paris green — for "eating" insects. 
Sulphur (powdered) — for mildew. 
Tobacco Dust — for aphis. 
Whale-oil soap — good wash for Roses. 
Lime-sulphur solution— spray for flowering fruit trees. 
Bone meal — splendid food for Roses and other plants. 
Wood ashes. 

Nitrate of soda — good tonic, but must be carefully used. 
Sheep manure — an effective and easily applied dry manure. 
Lime (slaked) — for sweetening the soil. 

A "Day Book," kept in connection with the garden 
and nursery, will be found an invaluable aid to memory. 
Mine is rather a stout ledger, in which is kept a record of 
all plants and seeds purchased and from whom, and all 
expenses connected with the garden. Note is made of all 
experiments under way, of all new flowers under obser- 
vation. Careful note is made of changes to be made at a 
convenient season. Memory is short in the garden, the 
beauty of one season blots out the mistakes of the last, 



44 MY GARDEN 

and one may easily forget the pink Sweet William grow- 
ing beside the flaming Oriental Poppies and discords of 
a like nature, if one does not "put it down." It is easy 
to see possibilities of new beauties when the garden is in 
full bloom, but very diflBcult when it is bare and brown, 
or when one has only a paper plan to go by. So as each 
season comes to full development we try to work out the 
improvements, making note of such plants as mar the 
general effect, as well as those that we feel would en- 
hance it, or create some especially lovely picture. In 
this book also may be found a careful description of 
every growing thing in the garden, derived, not from 
catalogues or books, but from personal observation in 
our own garden — its height, colour, habit of growth, 
time and length of blooming, and any facts concerning 
it worthy of note. All this is most invaluable data, con- 
stantly turned to. 

Another book, which we call the "Country Miscel- 
lany," is kept, and is probably more interesting than use- 
ful. It is the repository for all sorts of facts and fancies 
concerning gardens, plants, and country matters gen- 
erally. Old recipes for home-made remedies, per- 
fumes, wines, and cordials; local superstitions regarding 
plants and their uses, quotations from the flower-loving 
poets, accounts of gardens visited, quaint flower names 
and much more. 

Both books are well thumbed and smeared with soil; 
between the pages lie sprigs of Thyme and the long. 



THE NURSERY 45 

sweet leaves of Costmary, and both bear witness to 
being in constant use. They are the records of many 
years of joyful, health-giving work, and each year adds 
to their value, as it does to my love for this beautiful 
and beloved craft. 



CHAPTER THREE 

THE DAY BEFORE SPRING AND THE NEXT 

"There is a faltering crimson by the wall, 
Now on a vine, and now on brier thinned. 
As though one bearing lantern through the wind 
Here hides his light, but yonder lets it fall." 

— Lizzette Woodford Reese. 

WILL any one gainsay that his most poignant 
gardening emotions are experienced in 
March? What other month can arouse such 
turbulent feeUngs within us as March with her smiling 
interludes which come unexpectedly out of the cold and 
fierce storms like the singing melody that suddenly 
breaks through a thunder of complicated orchestration. 
The sky is bluer than blue; the sun is warm upon our 
backs, and from the eaves of the house the water drips 
in hilarious chuckles; the voice of the little brook near 
the house, which we call "The Singing Water," is un- 
loosed in a wild medley of exuberant sound, and sud- 
denly there comes the piercing call of the Phoebe, the 
most arousing bird note of the spring. And we can re- 
sist no longer, but rush recklessly hatless to the garden, 
feeling, if not actually repeating, Lowell's lines: 

"Every clod feels a stir of might. 
An instinct within it which reaches and towers.** 
46 



THE DAY BEFORE SPRING 47 

Such days must cause tremulous heartbeats beneath 
the sodden earth, for very certain it is that if this 
strange, disturbing something, which has crept into the 
world over night, pierces my fur jacket and stirs my 
hibernating emotions, so much more surely does it reach 
and stir those sleeping green things so divinely sensitive 
to this "elemental tenderness." The morrow may find 
our throbbing senses quieted by a soft cold hand of 
snow, icicles may hang fiercely where yesterday sounded 
the thrilling drip, and winds may flourish their banners 
of dun-coloured cloud; but within that sunny rift, 
between two storms, the baby Spring was born and 
straightway we and the waiting world capitulate and 
owe allegiance to none other. Down to the garden one 
goes, eager for miracles, and, sure enough, a fat robin 
struts the walk, a song-sparrow tilts joyously on the 
Sweet Brier and splits his little spring-tuned throat — 
and lo ! in a sheltered corner, a miracle indeed, for what 
yesterday was snow, to-day is tender flowers, pure as the 
snow, but boasting a tiny spot of green upon each cold 
white inner petal, mute assurance of the Snowdrop's 
fealty to the new order, else should we not mistake her 
for the child of gray old winter.'^ Often above the 
Snowdrops the Naked Jasmine has lighted a pale 
candle or two, and if our eyes are sharp, doubtless we 
shall find some fat little bundles of Crocus spears heaved 
through the winter blanket. More than likely the 
Crown Imperials, those stout but easily demoralized 



48 MY GARDEN 

monarchs, have shot a reckless three inches into the air, 
and would be utterly and everlastingly nipped in the bud 
did we not watch the weather signs and bundle them up 
at the slightest hint of a "change." 

When the baby Spring is old enough to sit up and 
keep an eye upon her domain, the time has come to 
awaken the flowers, and I always do it myself, for I 
would not miss for anything their first sleepy greetings 
and the sight of their tumbled heads as we turn back the 
brown blanket and know that they are stretching their 
cramped limbs and drawing long, ecstatic breaths of the 
wonderful, winter-sweetened air. 

Here we have not yet acquired Christmas Roses or 
Winter Aconites, so the Snowdrop is the first comer, 
though often accompanied by Crocus Imperati in a 
south border and closely followed by the brilliant flowers 
of h-is reticulata. In a north border, where the sun 
reaches them for part of the day only, the Snowdrops 
have a long period of bloom, and are often on hand to 
gleam shyly with the corpulent Dutch Crocuses and 
early Daffodils. But in the more sheltered situations 
they come so early as to have the field almost to them- 
selves. They are charming grown beneath a ground 
cover of English Ivy or in woodland places where they 
pierce and shine above a carpet of brown leaves, and are 
most effective when planted in large numbers. They 
will do well almost anywhere, but in a rather moist, 
loamy soil and partial shade they increase more rapidly 



THE DAY BEFORE SPRING 49 

than in dry, sunny places. Here we have only two kinds : 
Galanthus nivalis, the kind ordinarily planted, and the 
great G. Elwesii, giant of the family and much taller and 
more substantial. 

Very similar to Galanthus is Leucojum vernum, the 
Spring Snowflake, which blooms nearly as early and 
sheds a fine fragrance from its drooping green-tipped 
flowers. It grows from eight to ten inches tall and 
loves a sandy loam. 

The first Crocus to burst bubble-like from the earth 
behind our garden walls is C. Imperati, a wild species of 
great charm, wearing without the tenderest buff colour, 
lightly feathered with rosy lavender, while within is pure 
lavender against which the orange stigmata show hotly. 
They grow in a south corner beneath some bushes and 
are treasured, for they bloom always when I am most 
impatient for the spring and stay my eagerness as the 
Snowdrops never do. Despite their frail appearance, 
they will stand the wind and rains of March trium- 
phantly and last in beauty for a long time. Next to bloom 
here is C. Susianus, the Cloth-of-gold Crocus, in a gold- 
lined brown jacket. This is a much less rare and elegant 
person than Imperati, but is so instinct with warmth 
and life that I adore its burning trails along two borders. 
Another early-flowering Crocus is the Scotch, C. BifloruSy 
gleaming white lined with pale purple. Then come the 
great splashes of colour which proclaim the Dutch 
Crocuses — valiant purple and orange, clean lavender, 



50 MY GARDEN 

gleaming white, and the pretty striped sorts Uke Madam 
Mina. There are many fine sorts, but President Lin- 
coln, a rich purple of fine vaselike form, is my favourite. 
Crocuses love a nice sandy loam and are planted in Sep- 
tember and October about three inches deep. They 
may be left to themselves until they show, by falling off 
in their bloom, that they are overcrowded, when they 
may be dug up and given more room. 

Three dainty blue-flowered bulbs belong to the early 
spring; Chionodoxa, Muscari, and Scilla. The Chiono- 
doxas bloom first with me — C. Luciliae and sardensis — 
the first, bright sky blue with a clear white centre; the 
second, of that rare Gentian blue so seldom seen in 
flowers. Both are but a few inches high, and are pretty 
planted in spreading patches about the drifts of snowy 
Arabis in bloom at the same time. The common Grape 
Hyacinth, Muscari botryoides, with its pretty beaded 
blue flower spikes, is well known to most of us, and also 
the refined white variety. But there are others too 
lovely not to be included in every garden. Of those. 
Heavenly Blue, well named, is the best, but azureum, 
blooming very early, is most attractive, and plumo- 
sum, the Feathered Hyacinth, more mauve than blue. 
Muscari moschatum, also leaning to lavender, is large and 
fragrant of musk, and requires a warm, dry border. The 
Muscaris like a rich, well -drained soil and plenty of grit, 
and should be planted three inches deep in early autumn. 
They do well either in the grass or in the beds and borders. 



THE DAY BEFORE SPRING 51 

The contemplation of Scillas, Squills, or Bluebells is 
pleasant indeed, for they are among the loveliest of 
spring flowers. They like a little shade and so for 
woody places are ideal. In this garden we grow them 
beneath the flowering trees and shrubs, but have not 
nearly enough. There is S. sibirica, with spikes of 
bright blue flowers three inches high, and S. bifolia, 
blooming a little earlier, with dainty heads of azure 
flowers; Scilla nutans, the English Bluebell, growing 
fourteen inches high with arching stems of drooping 
bells, and S. hispanica (syn. campanulata) , almost the 
loveliest of all, with erect spikes fifteen inches tall carry- 
ing bells of various colours — white, lilac, and rose, but 
none so satisfying as the blue. The bulbs of Scillas 
should be planted five or six inches deep, and they will 
thrive under evergreen trees where few other plants 
will grow. 

Before April has got very far along her fairy way the 
great Crown Imperials are in gorgeous bloom. This is a 
plant of old times but is so truly magnificent and vi- 
brant in its form and colouring that it should never have 
gone out of fashion. Parkinson calls it sonorously, 
Corona Imperialis, and considered it a Lily. Thus he 
writes: "The Crowne Imperiall for his stately beauti- 
fulness, deservith the first place in this our Garden of 
Delight, to be here entreated before all other Lillies." 
His quaint and appreciative description of this flower 
that he so greatly admired is too long to give in full, and 



52 MY GARDEN 

my own words are poor and cold in comparison, though 
I share his admiration. The great nose appears above 
ground at the very first hint of reassuring weather and 
attains, in an incredibly short time, a height of two 
and one-half to three feet. At the top is a triumphant 
tuft of greenery, and just below hangs the circular crown 
of bells — sometimes two crowns — this kind called 
Crown upon Crown; sometimes orange, again yellow or 
scarlet, but always imperial and striking. It is Turkish 
and looks its nationality. One fault it has, but I, with 
Parkinson, am so under its spell that we make light of it. 
He says: "The whole plant and every part thereof, as 
well rootes, as leaves and flowers, does smell somewhat 
strong as it were the savour of a Foxe, so that if any one 
does but come near it, he cannot but smell it, which 
yet is not unwholesome." I am not familiar with the 
*' savour of a Foxe," but this splendid plant has to my 
nose exactly the "savour" of a skunk-cabbage, and 
seems to permeate the world. It is at its worst, I have 
observed, when it first appears above ground, as if it 
were just "letting it-self go" after the long winter con- 
finement; but, as Parkinson says, it is not "unwhole- 
some." Ruskin speaks of the perfume of a flower as its 
soul, and it would seem a worthy task for some patient 
missionary hybridist to take in hand the terrible soul of 
Fritillaria im'perialis. 

A rich soil is generally recommended for Crown 
Imperials, and I have found that the bulbs here planted 



THE DAY BEFORE SPRING 53 

in a south border, where the soil is warm and dry, are 
in the best condition and have increased. Those in a 
north border, where the soil is heavy, disappeared after 
two years. The bulb should be planted in September, 
the tops five inches below the ground and the bulb laid 
upon its side to prevent moisture lodging between the 
scales. It will require a year to become established be- 
fore it does anything very striking in the way of a dis- 
play. If at any time the bulbs must be moved, the best 
time is just after the leaves have withered. 

Fritillaries are rather numerous, but I am not ac- 
quainted with many. Just once have I been able to 
flower the brilliant red F. recurva, though I have planted 
it several times under flattering conditions. The Snakes- 
head Fritillary, Guineahen flower, or Checker Lily, as 
Parkinson calls it, Fritillaria Meleagris, with its lovely 
white variety, alba, may and should be had by every 
one. In moist, partially shaded places, the curving 
bell-hung stalk grows a foot high, but in the dryer 
soil of the garden it is not so tall. There are new 
varieties, Cassandra, Orion, and Triton, all described as 
most attractive; the *' Checkers" on their gray or 
silvery-white ground are more or less distinct. The 
bulbs should be planted six inches deep with a covering 
of sharp sand. 

When one comes to Daffodils, it is difiicult to write 
with moderation or even to think connectedly^ — one 
wants to go into ecstasies and to run, in spirit, from one 



54 MY GARDEN 

sunshiny group to another inhaUng the ineffable wet- 
earth-and-sun perfume which is their birthright, quite 
forgetting to tell of the best varieties and how to grow 
them. When down in the garden sweet Daffodil 
"unties her yellow bonnet," it is a "time o' dreams" — 
Cherry Blossoms cast their pale shadow; Peach trees 
fling pink spray against the garden wall; Japanese 
Quince makes a hot splash against the cold stone. Early 
Tulips proudly lead one up and down the garden paths 
displaying here a snowy drift of Arab is, there a purple 
trail of Aubrietia, and here again a mound of green-gold 
Alyssum — and disappear beneath the scented skirts of 
the flowering Currant or march in prim, upstanding 
array in the shadow of a scarlet-budded Crabapple. A 
thousand delights are spread before us, but wonder of 
wonders is that nodding horde of Daffodils, all up and 
down the borders, under the trees, beside the paths, 
shining with the sunshine, gleaming with the gentle 
rain, restless with the attentive wind. It was Mahamet 
who said more than a thousand years ago, "He that 
hath two cakes of bread, let him sell one of them and buy 
Narcissus, for bread is food for the body but Narcissus 
is food for the soul." And verily it is true — food for the 
soul and delight for the eyes, these gleaming things lying 
like patches of light among the faUen Cherry Blossoms, 
glorifying the brown earth, and lifting the most sodden 
into a rarer atmosphere. Daffodil time is the very height 
of spring, the epitome of springing youth and hope. 



,. ^v 




,,-tMrti. w Sttnf^ <M>^5 



'when down in the garden sweet daffodil 'unties her bonnet,' 

IT IS A 'time o' dreams' " 



THE DAY BEFORE SPRING 55 

The classification of the Narcissus family is rather 
confusing to me, there are so many divisions and sub- 
divisions, but it is not necessary to be very well grounded 
in these distinctions to know and grow these flowers. 
There are long trumpets and short trumpets, large 
cups, smaU cups, and flat cups, double-flowered, single- 
flowered, and cluster-flowered, and each of these blossoms 
forth into such an astonishing company, all lovely, that 
one is bewitched as well as bewildered. My experience 
of growing Daffodils is as yet confined to the garden — I 
have not tasted the joy of planting them by the thou- 
sand in orchards and meadows. Most of those we have 
tried have flourished and increased, a few have lan- 
guished; and in the case of those wee things. Angles 
Tears, Queen of Spain, Hoop-petticoat, minimus and 
nanus — ^fit only for the sequestered safety of rockwork, 
but which, for the life of me, I cannot help trying to 
cajole into border life — I meet heart-sickening failure. 
These small things are quite hardy, but the great world 
of the open garden literally frightens them out of their 
lives. 

The soil for Daffodils should not be heavy and stiff, 
but light, rich, and porous. Sand and wood ashes will 
do much toward putting a heavy soil into the proper 
condition, and the Rev. Joseph Jacob in his helpful book 
"Daffodils" suggests a little bone meal in the soil be- 
low the bulbs. As in the case of all bulbs, no manure 
should come into contact with them, though a top dress- 



56 MY GARDEN 

ing in winter is both beneficial and a safeguard. We 
plant the bulbs from four to six inches deep, according 
to size, and it is well to get them into the ground as early 
in the fall as they can be procured. If blooming well 
they may be left undistrubed until by "falling ojff" 
they testify to being overcrowded. Then they may be 
dug up in spring, when the leaves have yellowed and lie 
upon the ground, dried and stored in open paper bags or 
boxes in a dry place, until it is time to replant them in 
late August and September. 

It is difficult to go wrong in the selection of these 
all-beautiful flowers, but the following is a list of 
moderate priced sorts, which are doing well in our 
garden : 

Of the Great Yellow Trumpets, we have Emperor, 
Glory of Leiden, Golden Spur, Henry Irving, Obvallaris, 
P. R. Barr, and maximus. 

Of the lovely White Trumpets, we have Albicans, 
.Madame de Graff, Mrs. Camm, and Moschatus of 
Haworth, the fair Daffodil of Spain. All these white 
Trumpets are very grateful for partial shade. 

The Bicolour Trumpets are a charming race with 
many representatives. Here we have Empress, Gran- 
dee, Horsfeildii, J. B. M. Camm, Madame Plemp, 
Oriana, Wm. Goldring. 

The various kinds of Chalice-Cupped Daffodils, or 
Star Narcissi, comprising the Incomparabilis, Barrii, and 
Leedsii sections, have ever been to me the loveliest of 



THE DAY BEFORE SPRING 57 

these lovely flowers. They are truly starlike and seem 
to shed a soft radiance about them. 

Of the Incomparabilis group there are Beauty, C. J. 
Backhouse, Cynosure, Frank Miles, Lulworth, Queen 
Bess, Sir Watkin, Stella Superba, and Will Scarlet. 

Among the Barrii group are Albatros, Conspicuus, 
Falstaff, Oriflamme, and Seagull. The cups of these are 
red rimmed. 

The Eucharis-flowered or Leedsii group are softly 
coloured and delicately fragrant. Ariadne, Duchess of 
Westminster, Katherine Spurrell, Mary Magdelin de 
Graff, Minnie Hume, and Mrs. Langtry. 

Besides these we must have the little Jonquils or 
Rush-leaved Narcissi, with several bright yellow, sweetly 
scented flowers to a stalk. Of these, iV. Jonquilla and 
N. odorus (or campernella) are the only ones we have. 
The bulbs are very small and the flower stems slender 
so they should be planted with a generous hand. 

The glistening white circle of petals and scarlet "eye" 
of the Poet's Narcissus is well known and beloved. The 
old Pheasant's Eye is very inexpensive and one of the 
best bulbs for naturalizing, but of late years some very 
fine varieties of this type have been given to the world. 
Of those, some of the less expensive are, Almira, Glory, 
Herrick, Minerva. 

The Poet's Narcissus is one parent of a new race 
called Poetaz, having several rather thick-fleshed 
flowers on a stem, the cups of which are orange or gold 



58 MY GARDEN 

or scarlet. The only ones we have are Elvira, Aspasia, 
and Irene — but there are a number of others. 

Double Daffodils lack something of the sprightly 
grace of the single sorts, but the fat old Van Sion, with 
its rumpled green-gold petals, is ever welcome, and there 
are few more beautiful flowers at any season than the 
double poeticus, or Gardenia-flowered. It is important 
that the bulbs of this sort should be planted early in a 
deep, cool soil, not too dry. Then there are the double 
Incomparabilis Narcissi, the Sulphur Phoenix and 
Orange Phoenix, known respectively as Codlins-and- 
Cream and Eggs-and-Bacon. They are old fashioned 
and quaint looking with crowded petals like little roses, 
and are very fragrant and good for bouquets. 

Daffodils are particularly charming when planted be- 
neath the many flowering trees and shrubs in bloom at 
their season. The light shade is no detriment to them, 
and their pale gold is very lovely with the pinks and 
whites of the fruit blossoms especially. 

Many bulbs will not only tolerate but are benefited by 
a ground cover of some small creeping plant which is so 
shallow-rooting that it does not rob the soil to any ex- 
tent, but protects the bulb from the fierce rays of the 
summer sun and the flowers from the splashing mud 
in the rude spring storms. This is true, not only of the 
larger bulbs such as Daffodils, Tulips, and Crown Im- 
perials, but of Grape Hyacinths, Scillas, Snowdrops, 
and other small things. Some of the "carpeters** 



THE DAY BEFORE SPRING 59 

which we have found most satisfactory are: Veronica 
repens, Gypsophila repens, Sedum alburn^ Sedum acre, 
Lotus corniculatus, Thymus lanuginosus and Serpyllum, 
and Cerastium for small bulbs, with Aubrietia, Arabis, 
Alyssum, Arenaria montana. Tunica saxifraga, Sweet 
Woodruff and Stachys lanata for the larger sorts. 

Besides the bulbs and flowering trees April offers 
more than one small delight to weave into our fairy 
pictures. Earliest of these is the snowy Rock Cress 
{Arabis albida) which lies in little drifts in sheltered 
places and opens its wide fragrant blossoms in the early 
part of the month. The foliage is gray, and after the 
plants are out of bloom they are still pretty; they are 
wanderers, sowing their seed freely and appearing in all 
sorts of places. It loves the warm angles of steps or 
walls or a chink in a low retaining wall where it hangs 
in soft-coloured festoons. There is a double-flowered 
Arabis, a thing of much more pride and circumstance 
than the single, but I have not found that it comes 
true from seed. Beds of pink and white Cottage Maid 
Tulips are most fresh looking and springlike carpeted 
with Arabis. 

Among the very prettiest low-growing plants of any 
season are the Aubrietias, which form little mounds of 
charming colour, the pleasant, dusty foliage almost 
hidden by the crowding blossoms, lavender, purple, 
rose, and crimson in many shades. Lavender is a splen- 
did sort. Dr. Mules, a rich purple; Fire King, very 



60 MY GARDEN 

striking crimson; Bridesmaid, a pale and lovely thing, 
and graeca, one of the older sorts but a fine tender laven- 
der. Besides these are Lloyd Edwards, deep purple; 
Wedding Veil, pale mauve; and M. J. Stowe, red-purple. 
They are easily raised from seed and sometimes bloom 
the first season. A large bed of seedling, M. J. Stowe in 
the nursery last year, bloomed from August until late in 
November. I find that Aubrietias suffer from the 
drought in our climate and need to be planted where 
they will have a deep, cool root-run, also that they ap- 
preciate a little lime in the soil. They are particularly 
nice in combination with stonework, and a fine mass of 
them here, in the pure lavender and purple shades, 
tumbling over a stone-edged border, backed by groups 
of pale Star Narcissi and shadowed by a Cherry tree in 
full bloom, creates a lovely picture. 

Fine subjects, also, for the April gardens, are the 
various varieties of Phlox subulata. They have close, 
dark, rather prickly foliage, and at this season are so 
densely starred with bloom that the groundwork of 
foliage is quite lost sight of. The old magenta sort is 
the one most generally seen. About here the sad long 
and short mounds in the forlorn little country church- 
yards are turned literally to mounds of glory in April 
through the agency of this kindly all-covering creeper. 
I am very fond of it, for while it is undoubtedly of the 
despised colour, it is lovely. Behind our garden walls it 
is most happily placed, both physically and spiritually, 



THE DAY BEFORE SPRING 61 

for its roots find a cool root-run and it spreads its war- 
ring colour over cool stones, with which it is at peace. 
Behind it rises feathery Artemisia Stelleriana and long- 
stemmed Poet's Narcissi. But for those who do not see 
magenta in its true light there are plenty of other 
lovely sorts, and best of all is that named G. F. Wilson, 
so silvery in its lavender colouring as to be almost gray. 
It grows at the top of a low retaining wall, over which it 
hangs in pale coloured mats, well set off by the clumps 
of dwarf purple Iris and light yellow Tulips at the wall 
top that come into bloom before the Phlox is past. Nel- 
soni is a fine, gleaming white sort, and others are Newry 
Seedling, mauve; The Bride, white with pink eye; Kath- 
leen, rosy lilac, and Little Dot, white, blue eye. 

These little plants are not at all set in their ways, and 
will gladly creep between stones in any cranny where 
they can secure a foothold, or they will lie contentedly 
sunning themselves in spreading patches along the 
borders. I have never seen seed of these Phloxes 
offered, but one's stock is easily increased by pegging 
down the little branches with a wire hairpin imme- 
diately after flowering and covering the pegged-down 
portion with sand, which must be kept moist. Roots 
will quickly form and the new plant may be detached 
and started upon a career of its own. 

Phlox divaricata is an upright little plant, carrying its 
wide, metallic-blue blossoms on stems about a foot high. 
It looks very well with the Daffodils, Arabis, and early 



62 MY GARDEN 

Tulips. Improved varieties of this are Laphami and 
Perry's, both real improveraents in size and quality. 
There is also a white sort. These plants do well in 
partial shade as well as in sun and in shadowy places. 
The fragrant flowers last longer and shine with added 
lustre. 

In this garden hardy Candytuft, Iberis sempervirens, 
and the golden Alyssum — Alyssum saxatile, var. com- 
pactum, seem to seek each other's company. Whether 
the seeds are so planted or not, the winds and birds 
arrange their meetings and soon the little colonies of 
cold yellow and cold white are accomplished and very 
pleasant to look upon. The Candytuft is a handsome 
plant with dark, almost evergreen, foliage and broad 
heads of dead- white flowers. It is one of the most 
valuable plants for the front of the border and makes a 
fine foreground for masses of orange-scarlet Tulips. 
There is a dwarf er form called Little Gem, which is also 
useful. Iberis gibraltarica is a lovely thing, with spread- 
ing flower heads, white faintly suggestive of mauve, but 
it is not, sadly enough, to be counted upon in severe 
winters. Sometimes in winter the leaves of semper vir- 
ens are badly browned, in which case it is best to cut the 
plants hard back. 

The golden Alyssum wears rather a raw shade of 
yellow, but orange Tulips and white flowers improve it, 
and it is so gay and willing that one likes to take a bit of 
trouble to bring it into harmony with its surroundings. 



THE DAY BEFORE SPRING 63 

It forms nice little bushes about eight inches high, gray- 
leaved and soft, and it loves a full exposure to the sun. 
Like all these spreading, low-growing plants, it enjoys 
growing over stones and is never so happy or effective 
as when hanging over a sunny wall surface. There is a 
variety of compactum called citrinum, a little softer in 
colour. 

A. montanum is a pretty yellow-flowered Alyssum 
with prostrate stems. A. rostratum and A. argenteum, 
forming hoary little bushes covered with tarnished 
yellow flower heads, are both worthy of a place and 
quite different from the others in appearance. 

Before April is past shy Primroses are showing in 
shadowy places about the garden. Here we have only 
the yellow, sweet-scented English Primrose and the gay 
brown and yellow Polyanthus. We grow them under 
the flowering trees and shrubs, and protect them in win- 
ter. They love a cool, deep soil, and should be divided 
yearly just after they have flowered. 

We cannot leave April without mention of the early 
Tulips, after the Daffodils, her most charming decora- 
tion. The earliest to bloom here is Tulipa Kaufmann- 
iana, a beautiful species from Central Asia, sometimes 
called the Water-lily Tulip, with petals of delicate cream 
colour swept by flames of carmine on the exterior. T. 
K. var aurea is yellow with carmine flashes and var. 
coccinea^ from Turkestan, is scarlet with a yellow base. 
Kaufmanniana is usually in bloom by the middle of the 



64 MY GARDEN 

month and is a matter of great pride and enjoyment to 
us, for it is rather rare in American gardens, and truly 
exquisite. 

What are known in the catalogues as "earlies" are 
hybrids developed from some natural species. Many 
of them are sweet scented and they have a thin, almost 
transparent, quality to their petals lacking in the more 
robust Tulips of May. I love to plant them in stiff 
rows along the edges of the borders, for somehow their 
short stems and stiffly quaint air seems not suitable for 
planting in friendly groups, or in careless, broadcast 
fashion. 

Special favourites are Chrysolora, clear yellow 
rounded flower. Yellow Prince, finely scented. Thomas 
Moore, splendid red-orange. Prince of Orange, orange- 
scarlet, scented. Cottage Maid, dainty pink and white. 
Le Reve, soft rose. Pink Beauty, cherry with white 
lines. Princess Helen, white. Flamingo, white-edged 
rose. Coleur Cardinal, rich, deep red. Brunehilde, 
white with yellow flashes. Wouverman, rich, reddish 
purple. White Swan, pure white, vase-shaped, blooms a 
little later. 

Belonging to the "earlies" are some double sorts well 
worth having, though they are rather heavy-headed and 
in wet weather are apt to get badly splashed with mud. 
We grow them in some eight-inch borders under the long 
grape arbours in the kitchen garden where the paths are 
of grass, so that when beaten down they rest upon the 



THE DAY BEFORE SPRING 65 

clean grass. We have not many sorts, but my favour- 
ite is Murillo, a lovely blush pink. Fine, too, and like a 
white Pseony is Schoonoord which means *'The Beau- 
tiful North." Safrano is a pretty, delicate, salmon- 
coloured flower, and Tournesol, a flashing red and yel- 
low. 



CHAPTER FOUR 

MAY IN THE GARDEN 

"In the quiet garden world 
Gold sunlight and shadow leaves 
Flicker on the garden wall." 

— Sappho. 

THE wraithlike beauty of April lingers into 
May, but her step is more reliant, her slender 
limbs green draped , her colour sUghtly deepened . 
These are long golden days, mist-bathed at their ris- 
ing and full of expectation. Foliage like a green veil 
swathes the trees; orchards are billowy with bloom, and 
unnumbered birds sing their thrilling songs and joyously 
prepare for the sure realization of their dreams. 

Down in the garden a sense of breathless expectation 
is felt, so much is about to happen, so many mysteries 
about to unfold, and hundreds of plants, awaiting a sign 
that they shall recognize, hold their buds closed seem- 
ingly by main force. Each hour of the day sets free 
some lovely thing; the sun's persuasive powers are 
strengthening and enticing showers fall often, coaxing 
the most timid and backward of the garden's children 
into haste. 

It is a time of flourishing well-being. Whatever 



MAY IN THE GARDEN 67 

dwindling and pining the plants may have in store for 
us, does not yet appear, and it is a delight to walk about 
the garden observing the vigorous, long-leaved tufts of 
Mulleins and Foxgloves, the capable appearance of 
Phlox and Sweet William, and the fine show of determi- 
nation exhibited by the lusty clumps of Heleniums, 
Oriental Poppies, Lupines, Columbines, Rudbeckias, 
Helianthus, and other old settlers. Pinks are reaching 
out in their gray young growth, the aristocratic noses of 
Lilies here and there pierce the moist, brown earth, and 
besides all this promise there is a delicious realization of 
blossoming boughs and bulbs and plants, for April's 
Daffodils and many gifts of her later days have not 
gone, and May Tulips have come bringing in their train 
a beauteous throng. 

Assuredly the Tulip is Queen of the early May gar- 
den. In April she was not quite strong enough to hold 
her own against gay Daffodil, and before June comes in 
she must bow to a more powerful potentate, but now she 
is supreme. There is such a host of fine May Tulips 
that the difficulty is to reconcile one's desires to the size 
o£ one's garden, or to the stretch of one's pocketbook. 
The great mass of these are known as Cottage Tulips 
and Darwins, but before we lose ourselves in their be- 
wildering midst I want to call attention to two wild 
species which we grow here with ever-increasing enjoy- 
ment. The first to bloom is Tulipa sylvestrisy which 
grows thickly beneath and all around a group of 



68 MY GARDEN 

Scotch Briers in a warm south border. The first year it 
does no more than send up two slender leaves and we are 
disappointed, but the second year and thereafter a 
slender, curving stem rises from between the clasping 
leaves carrying a long, bronze-coloured bud which opens 
widely into a small butter-yellow flower with the scent 
of hothouse violets. It is a sweet thing, with the shy 
grace common to most wild things, and should be 
planted where it may dwell and increase in peace, not 
pressed upon by stout perennials against which it is too 
frail to hold its own. 

The other wilding which has accepted our garden 
graciously is the Lady Tulip, Tulipa Clusiana, native 
of Europe, a spirited, upstanding mite with a flashing 
white, carmine-feathered cup carried on a short, stiff 
stem. It has been known in gardens for more than three 
hundred years, for Gerarde speaks of it, but it demands 
the special conditions of a well-drained soil and a warm 
sheltered spot, or it will not stay. A cushion and cover- 
ing of sharp sand greatly increase the comfort of the 
small bulbs. 

The slender, crimson-flowered Tulipa Didieri and its 
white variety are also wild species, but have so much 
the look of the Cottage varieties that it hardly seems 
necessary to treat them separately. 

Tulipa retroflextty though said to be of garden origin 
and grouped in bulb lists with the Cottage Tulips, is so 
distinct as to deserve personal notice. The uninitiated 



MAY IN THE GARDEN 69 

who see this TuHp usually call it a Lily, and the mistake 
is not surprising, for the deeply reflexing petals are mis- 
leading. The colour is a warm, pure yellow and the 
flower is carried on a long, curving stem. I like this 
Tulip better than any other for house decoration. 

Tulips known as May or Cottage Tulips are mainly 
descendants of varieties found in the latter part of the 
last century, in old gardens of the British Isles, also in 
France, Holland, and a few in America. They are to 
me more beautiful than the resplendent Darwins, for the 
blossoms are long and pointed, vase-shaped, or deli- 
cately oval, and all have an indisputable air of breeding 
and distinction not always felt in the Darwins, which 
seem to belong to a lower order with their thicker flesh 
and more squat forms. 

The Darwins were introduced from Holland at the 
beginning of this century. Dame Nature, and Messrs. 
Krelage of Haarlem, working in sympathetic collabora- 
tion, have wrought in them the most marvellous shades 
and tints. The stems are tall and strong, the blossoms 
usually cup-shaped, and nearly all are enriched by a con- 
spicuous blue base and dark anthers. 

In soil not too rich and heavy Cottage and Darwin 
Tulips may be left in the ground the year round and 
lifted only when they show by lessening quality that 
they are overcrowded. They appreciate deep planting 
— ten inches is not too deep — and a sand cushion, and 
no manure should touch the bulbs. Almost every im- 



70 MY GARDEN 

aginable colour-tone is shown in these May-flowering 
TuHps, and so it behooves us to be a little careful in our 
selection and disposal of them, that one lovely thing 
may not "kill" another. There are no yellows among 
the Darwins, but to offset this they have a wide range 
of mauves, lavenders, and purples, and both Cottage and 
Darwins are rich in shades of scarlet, cherry, pink, 
salmon, and blush. We love to plant these Tulips in 
groups and patches about the borders as we do the 
Daffodils, associating them with the many fine plants 
and shrubs blossoming at this season. The May Irises, 
florentina, Germanica, and Intermediate are fine used 
with these tall Tulips, also the soft gray-foliaged plants, 
and charming pictures may be contrived with the 
flowering trees. Many smaller things, such as blue or 
white Flax, Nepeta Mussini, and Dicentra eximea are 
lovely grown among the Tulips, and there are a host 
of creeping things to carpet the ground over the 
bulbs. 

Here, in a border, the background of which is created 
by purple-leaved Plums and pink and white Flowering 
Almonds, we grow the dark red and cherry -coloured 
Tulips with fine effect. They are Pride of Haarlem, 
Nauticus, The Sultan, Anthony Roozen, Glow, Faust, 
Baronne de la Tonnaye, Flambeau, Black Knight, Zulu, 
Whistler, Europe, and Mr. Farncombe Sanders — all 
Darwins. The mauve and purple Darwins are par- 
ticularly artistic, and I should like some day to make a 



MAY IN THE GARDEN 71 

border with a background of white Persian Lilacs and 
the spreading Judas Tree, where, in association with 
much gray fohage of Lyme Grass, Artemisia, Nepeta, 
Lavender Cotton and Woolly Stachys, and clumps of 
gray-white Florentine Iris, the following lovely Tulips 
would be charmingly shown: Nora Ware, Kate Greena- 
way, Dream, Bleu aimable, Rev. H. Ewbank, Electra, 
Euterpe and Erguste, with such dark kinds as The 
Bishop, Grand Monarque, and Leonardo da Vinci here 
and there for accent. 

Such gorgeous orange Cottage Tulips as La Merveille, 
Orange King, or Orange Beauty are effective grouped 
with the spraylike growth of sky-blue or white Flax, 
with a background of Bridal-wreath, or some other 
white-flowered shrub. Very lovely, too, is a pretty pink 
Darwin Tulip Gretchen, planted in groups with Floren- 
tine Iris in the neighbourhood of the scarlet-budded 
Crab, Pyrus florihunda. Other good associations, before 
me as I write, are pale yellow Tulip Ellen Willmott with 
Nepeta Mussini, creamy Leghorn Bonnet with gray 
Stachys, and tufts of lavender Phlox divaricata. The 
lovely pink and white Tulip Carnation, with hoary 
Southernwood and white Tulip Innocence, with tufts of 
mauve Aubrietia in front of a bush of yellow Kerria. 
Other good Cottage Tulips are Bouton d'Or, golden 
yellow; Gesneriana spathulata, ruby-scarlet. Ingles- 
comb Pink, salmon; John Ruskin, apricot-pink; macro- 
spila, vibrant scarlet; Miss Jekyll, white with blue 



72 MY GARDEN 

base; Moonlight, primrose; Mrs. Moon, bright yellow; 
Oriana, ruby-pink; Picotee, white with pink edges; The 
Fawn, rosy-fawn, and vitellina^ cream. 

Besides the Tulips and Irises the first two weeks of 
May bring a number of good perennials to grace the 
garden. The old Bleeding-heart (Dicentra syn. Dielytra 
spectabilis), whose blossoms look like some old-fashioned 
confection, comes before the Daffodils are past and 
associates charmingly with some of the pale star varie- 
ties. Few old gardens are without a spreading clump of 
this old-fashioned perennial, and new gardens should not 
be without it, for even without the wandlike stems 
laden with dangling pink candy hearts, its beautiful 
foliage should win it a place in every gathering of choice 
plants. Like Pseonies and Fraxinella it likes to be left 
in peace year after year, without division, or other 
kindly meddling. Its dwarf er relatives, Dicentra eximea 
and formosa, with blossoms of a deeper colour lasting 
the greater part of the summer, should bear it company, 
and even that tiny elfin Dutchman's Breeches, of our 
own woods, D. Cucullariay so fetching in its creamy 
"breeches" and feathery green, is worthy a bit of space 
in some shadowy corner. 

Another old friend is blossoming in these early days 
of May and is too often passed by nowadays for more 
striking novelties. This is Honesty (Lunaria biennis), a 
plant of many names, showing that many have cared for 
it as it travelled down through the ages; and so hung 



MAY IN THE GARDEN 73 

about with traditions of magic that we quite stand in 
awe of the simple plant. 

" Enchanting Lunarie here lies, 
In sorceries excelling." 

It is a pretty thing growing about eighteen inches tall, 
with large dusty-looking leaves and flowers of shining 
white, or various shades of purple. It is biennial, but 
self-sows, so may be kept in the garden with little 
trouble. In our garden two other old-fashioned plants 
grow with it and form a friendly group : white Spiderwort, 
with its strange three-cornered blossoms, and Jacob's 
Ladder, with spikes of light blue-lavender flowers. 
Maeterlinck spoke of such plants as these as having "a 
long human past behind them, a large array of kind and 
consoling actions; those which have lived with us for 
hundreds of years and which form part of ourselves since 
they reflect something of their grace and their joy of life 
in the soul of our ancestors." 

Belonging also to this old-fashioned company, but 
blooming later in the month, are Sweet Rocket and 
Garden Heliotrope. The first, Hesperis matronalis, has 
starlike flowers, white, or in shades of pale purple 
and violet, and gives forth to the night a most delicious 
fragrance which it quite withholds from the day. Per- 
haps it is a bit too free a seeder to be admitted to very 
choice gardens, but treated as bienniels, the old plants, 
which grow lax and straggling, pulled out and thrown 



74 MY GARDEN 

away and only a few of the many seedlings retained, 
it may be enjoyed with safety. Garden Heliotrope 
{Valeriana officinalis) is a special favourite. It bears a 
flat head of pinkish lacelike bloom at the end of its four 
feet of slender stem and has the delicious fragrance of 
real Heliotrope. It is so old-fashioned and out of fash- 
ion that it is not always easy to procure, but when 
one has it, it spreads so generously that one may pass it 
along to others who are less fortunate, and it is well worth 
having, for it lends a light grace to whatever part of the 
garden it occupies and combines charmingly with the 
other flowers of its day, especially with Iris Blue King 
and the flaunting Oriental Poppies. 

Yellow is well represented in early May, for besides 
the still lingering Daffodils, Alyssum, and Tulips, we 
have the two fine perennials. Leopard's Bane (Doroni- 
cum), and the Globe Flower (Trollius) , each with several 
good varieties. The best and tallest of the Doroni- 
cums is D. 'plantagineum var. excelsum, which bears its 
large daisylike flowers on stems three feet high. D. 
Clusii and D. austriacum are also good sorts about a foot 
and a half high. These plants will do well in a poor dry 
soil, but respond to better living, and they require yearly 
division. Doronicums should be kept out of the neigh- 
bourhood of Daffodils and Tulips, as there is too much 
green in the yellow of their flowers, but planted with 
white Flax and such strong purple Irises as King or 
Kochi, they are well placed. The Globe Flowers are not 



MAY IN THE GARDEN 75 

so amiable and unless one can give them a very rich, 
deep soil, or dampness, it is best not to try them. If 
comfortable, they grow into stout clumps of nicely cut 
foliage, gayly ornamented with double flowers — deep 
cream, yellow, or orange-scarlet. 

Blue and white Flax flowers are everywhere just 
now and are always captivating in their light spraylike 
growth. They occupy little space, sowing their seeds 
about and gaining a footing in the chinks of waUs and 
steps, along the edges of the paths, and anywhere in the 
borders. One border has its stone edging buried be- 
neath a cloak of gray Cerastium, Gypsophila repens, and 
blue Veronica prostrata, with groups of Flax alternating 
along its whole length with long-stemmed pink Thrift 
(Armeria latifolia). In another border pink Tulips rise 
delightfully from a mass of sky-blue Flax, and in still 
another it has appointed itself a background for deep- 
purple Campanula glomerata. The Narbon Flax {Linum 
narhonense) is perhaps a more skylike blue than the 
more familiar L. perenne, but is not so hardy. Both 
bloom aU summer if seeding is not allowed. Linum 
flavum is a beautiful plant, more robust in appearance, 
but less so in reality than perenne, with rich yellow 
flowers and nice grayish foliage. It has never been 
very happy with me, disappearing or sulking in a most 
annoying manner, but last fall I discovered that my 
rather weak-looking plants had begun to seed themselves 
and had started quite a thriving colony in the path, 



76 MY GARDEN 

which I take as a sign that the misunderstanding be- 
tween this lovely Flax and me is a thing of the past. 

In the cold frame we have some thriving seedlings of 
the Alpine Flax {Linum alpinum) , but cannot yet speak 
authoritatively of it, save that it comes easily from seed. 

Another blue-flowered plant, but one much stouter 
and more prosaic than the winsome Flax, is Centaurea 
montana, perennial relative and rather heavy prototype 
of the pretty annual Corn Flower, or Blue-bottle. It is 
a good plant of medium height, sturdy of growth, with 
nice gray foliage and a long period of bloom if not al- 
lowed to seed. Yearly division keeps the plants com- 
pact and it does well in any sunny situation. C. 
ruthenica and macrocephala are yellow-flowered Cen- 
taureas, growing about four feet high and blooming in 
mid-summer. They are rather coarse in growth, but 
are worth having. The former is the better. 

Incomplete indeed would be the spring without the 
Columbines, and so we have a great many within our 
garden enclosure, of all colours and kinds, with short or 
long spurs, with enchanting white petticoats, and with 
none. I like best the long spurred, single sorts in clear, 
opaque colours — sky-blue, purple, pure white or yellow. 
Aquilegia chrysantha, a fine, long-spurred yellow sort, 
blooms later than the others and continues through the 
greater part of the summer. A. coerulea^ the Rocky 
Mountain Columbine, is an exquisite variety, with sky- 
blue and white flowers. It has a lovely white form 



MAY IN THE GARDEN 77 

called candidissima. There are some fine pink sorts 
of garden origin and various other hybrids in cream, 
lavender, and purple shades. Columbines require a 
background of green or stonework to be seen at their 
best, and gleam more charmingly in shadowy places 
than in full sun. They naturalize well in rocky wooded 
places, and indeed seem more at home in such a situation, 
for they always appear more wild than garden-bred to 
me. 

Scarlet Geums have been very gay in the borders 
these two weeks past. They sound a piercing colour 
note and are gay and pretty in association with white 
Flax and lavender Phlox divaricata. There are several 
fine sorts. G. Heldreichii, bright orange, growing a foot 
tall, and its variety magnificum — a good deal taller; 
G. minatum var. aurantiacum, strong yellow and of a 
more compact growth, and the two fine double sorts 
growing nearly two feet high, G. coccineum, vars. Mrs. 
Bradshaw, and Glory of Stuttgart. 

There are many minor delights belonging to the first 
two weeks of May besides those which fell from April's 
lap and still linger. The Cerastiums trail their soft 
gray foliage over the stone edgings, Saponaria ocymoides, 
decorous cousin of disreputable Bouncing Bet of the 
dusty roadsides, tumbles over the stones in delectable 
pink cascades, sky-blue Polemonium reptans and rosy 
Thrifts gaily tuft the edges of the borders, and Lily of 
the Valley, Periwinkle, and the lacy growth of Sweet 



78 MY GARDEN 

Woodruff {Asperula odorata) shine in the shaded cor- 
ners. 

The last two weeks of May have much the look of 
June. The spring aspect has gone; delicate flower tints, 
the reddish shoots and tender young green are replaced 
by stronger colours and lush foliage — these are the days 
of fulfilment, not of promise. The borders are full and 
very gay, and everywhere are charming groups. The 
noble tribe of Hemerocallis has appeared upon the 
scene in all its burnished beauty. My little boy calls 
them "brass and copper lilies," which is most apt, and 
bronze might be added, for the outsides of some, like 
H. Dumortierii, are distinctly bronze in colour. H. gra- 
minea, or minor, a dwarf, is the first to bloom here, and 
is closely followed by H. flava, the common Lemon 
Lily, flawless in colour and finely scented. If the various 
sorts of Hemerocallis are planted they will reach well 
into August, and are delightful company all along the 
way. Of the kinds blooming in May and June, besides 
minor and flava, there are Apricot, well named for its 
fine colour; Dumortierii, with an orange-coloured inte- 
rior and a bronze coat; Middendorfii, orange and rather 
dwarf; Gold Dust, a fine rich yellow; Buttercup, bright 
yellow, and Sovereign, clear yellow within and chocolate 
without. Later comes the tawny fulva, the old Orange 
Day Lily of the roadsides; Thunbergii, much like the 
Lemon Lily and as sweetly scented; citrina, with small 
flowers of a lovely pale shade; Aureole, a truly "brass 



MAY IN THE GARDEN 79 

and copper lily"; Dr. Kegel, splendid orange; luteola, 
bright yellow and reaching a height of four feet; auran- 
tiaca major, huge apricot-coloured flowers, sweetly 
scented; and Kwanso, a handsome double-flowered form 
of fulva. 

The foliage of these so-called lilies is always clean and 
sightly, and they demand almost nothing of us, growing 
well in sun or shade, in damp places, or in the borders, 
where they lend themselves to all sorts of good asso- 
ciations. Garden Heliotrope is lovely with them and 
the tall white and "bleak blue" Lupines; The Flag and 
Siberian Irises seem to belong naturally with them, and 
if one can stand a perfectly resounding harmony plant 
them with orange and scarlet Oriental Poppies. I al- 
ways do myself, and rejoice exceedingly in the vibrant 
result. 

A lovely picture exists just now in a corner of the 
garden where a spreading mass of purple Meadow Rue 
{Thalictrum aquilegifolium) grows in company with 
white Lupines and a pale yeUow Iris called Canary Bird. 
This Meadow Rue is a fair and elegant plant with cut 
metallic foliage like that of Columbines and puffs of 
purple mistlike bloom on leafy stems about four feet tall. 
The foliage lasts in good condition the summer through, 
so that it is one of those plants which should be given a 
prominent place. We have recently made the ac- 
quaintance of another Thalictrum, said to grow six feet 
taU, r. glaucum. The foliage of this one is distinctly 



80 MY GARDEN 

gray and the flowers are yellow. It should prove a good 
plant for the back of the border. Another for the back 
of the border is the recently introduced Thalictrum 
dipterocarpum, purple flowers with conspicuous yellow 
anthers. The two dwarfs, minus and its variety 
adiantifolium, both fernlike and pretty with the good 
quality of long-lasting foliage, belong at the front of the 
borders. These plants require a deep, rich soil; they are 
not subjects for dry, shallow places. Frequent division 
is not a necessity. My clumps have been undisturbed 
for five years and are certainly in fine condition. They 
are easily raised from seed. 

Lupines are among what the children call the ''very 
favourites," and we always have a great many. They 
are easfly raised from seed, but should be transplanted 
to their permanent places when quite small, as the 
long taproot makes moving them without doing harm 
a bit diflficult. The plants are not long lived with 
us; indeed we do not count upon them for more than 
two seasons of bloom, but being so easily raised from 
seed and seeding themselves besides this fault is not 
serious. Lupinus arboreus is not hardy in the neigh- 
bourhood of New York, but L. polyphyllus has many 
fine hybrids. I have two beautiful yellow varieties, 
Somerset and YeUow Boy, which are effective with the 
purple Meadow Rue. L. Moerheimi is a good pink sort, 
and this with Nelly, pink and white, are lovely with 
hoary Southernwood bushes. The Bride is buff and 



MAY IN THE GARDEN 81 

rose, and there are many good blue, or blue and white 
sorts, also mauve and purple. I am not sure but that 
the tall L. alhus, with spikes of creamy blossoms, is the 
prettiest of all and certainly it is the most useful. We 
grow it behind such pinky-mauve Irises as Queen of 
May, Her Majesty, and Mme. Pacquitte, with gray 
Stachys as a foreground. It is fine also with the orange 
Oriental Poppies or Lemon Lilies and indeed is no- 
where amiss. If the spent flower stalks are cut off 
Lupines will bloom the greater part of the summer. 

Many pretty things festoon the low walls and stone 
edgings at this season. The two little Veronicas, V. 
repens and prostrata, are as blue as the summer sky and 
creep in and out among the stones arid over into the 
path most beguilingly. Delightful, too, is Corydalis 
lutea, a ferny, feathery, fluffy little plant with pale yel- 
low flowers and the power to get a footing in the most 
impossible places. Nothing could be prettier for old 
walls or flights of stone steps, and as it seeds freely 
and can be trusted entirely to dispose of itself in the 
most charming manner, is no trouble at all. It has a 
noble relation, C. nobilis, which blooms late in the month 
and dies down entirely after flowering. It is much 
taller than the little Yellow Fumatory just mentioned, 
but has the same lovely foliage and creamy tubular 
blossoms which last in perfection fully three weeks. C. 
cheilanthifolia is another fine sort for walls or the edge 
of the border. They are all easily raised from seed, 



82 MY GARDEN 

will grow in sun or shade, and lutea blooms all summer 
until hard frost. 

In many places along the low walls Cat-mint, Nepeta 
Mussini, slowly evolves from a gray curtain to a laven- 
der veil. This splendid plant blooms all summer long, 
and is one of the most useful and lovely things we have. 
When in full flower, the small, aromatic gray leaves are 
quite hidden by the crowding lavender flower spikes, but 
in or out of bloom it is a plant of great charm. It stands 
our hot, dry summers without flinching, is perfectly 
hardy, but needs to be divided every year or so. 

By the last week in May summer has fairly come; the 
June Irises are in possession and climbing Roses are in 
turbulent bloom upon their walls and trellises. Over 
night the tight, hairy caps of the Oriental Poppies have 
burst, and one wakes to find great tongues of flame leap- 
ing up in all directions. They are the torch-bearers of 
the great, lavish queen Summer and the garden is "en 
fete." When they are gone we shall see that here a 
scarlet Lychnis has been kindled into life — there, a 
blood-red Pseony; across the garden a flight of English 
Poppies burn their vivid lives away, and the torch of a 
tawny Day Lily flares up. They stay just long enough 
to let us have our fill of gorgeous colour — longer, and 
we should be satiated and find these daring things too 
coarse and glaring, but Nature does not make such mis- 
takes. Besides the orange-coloured and scarlet Oriental 
Poppies there are some in softer shades: salmon, blush. 



MAY IN THE GARDEN 83 

rose, mahogany, and lately a pure white one. These 
are all lovely with the gray foliage plants, especially 
with Rue and Artemisia Stellariana, but should be kept 
out of the way of the orange and scarlet sorts. Some of 
the best are Blush Queen, Bracteatum, good red; Beauty 
of Livermore, deep crimson; Marie Studholme, salmon 
with purple stain; Mrs. Perry Salmon; Silver Queen, 
lovely flushed white; Medusa, satiny rose; Lady Roscoe, 
terra cotta, and Perry's White. 

Oriental Poppies are easily raised from seed and they 
also seed themselves freely in our garden, often creating 
havoc of some pet colour scheme, for it is not possible to 
allow them to associate with just anybody. The long 
taproot of these Poppies enables them to stand our 
dry summers without great suffering. The flowers last 
longer in partial shade, but the plants are as well off in 
full sunshine. After flowering the foliage usually dies 
away, not reappearing until the cooler nights of August 
lure it above ground again. This leaves a blank in the 
borders, and so behind all the Oriental Poppies we plant 
Gypsophila paniculata, the mistlike bloom of which 
covers their vagrant ways and is ready to be cut away 
by the time the Poppies see fit to reappear. 



CHAPTER FIVE 

JUNE MAGIC 

"I am not only well content but highly pleased with the plants 
and fruits growing in these my own little gardens." 

— Epicurus. 

THIS is the month when the least of us gardeners 
may proudly survey his flowery realm and say, 
"not so bad," for June seldom disappoints us. 
All danger from frost is past, the long rainy spells with 
cold nights and chilly, discouraging days are over, the 
devastating electric storms and cruel droughts have not 
yet come, and the gay throng of Foxgloves, Sweet Wil- 
liams, Irises, Pseonies, Pinks, and old-fashioned Roses 
are seldom to be found in the category of blighted hopes. 
Wherever the eye wanders is a lovely picture. Roses 
tumble over the walls, or riot up their trellises. Valerian 
spreads its lacy canopies above scarlet Poppies or soft- 
coloured Iris; a burnished Copper Brier displays itself 
in fine contrast to creamy Lupines and a tender mauve 
Iris, and blue and white frilled Iris Mme. Chereau 
looked never before so enchanting as with its back- 
ground of yellow Rose Harisoni. Fine masses of clear 
colour are created by the slender Siberian Irises, gay 
pink and white and crimson Pyrethrums nod from the 

84 



"^^.^ir- 



- v^ 



-^^fk ^ 




A GRAND BURST OF P^EONIES USUALLY CELEBRATES THE ARRIVAL OF JUNE" 



JUNE MAGIC 85 

borders; against the wall a great Gloire de Dijon Rose 
presses its soft flushed cheek, and from every chink and 
cranny of walls and steps and stone edgings, delicious 
Pinks shake out their perfumed fringes. 

In a corner of the garden the great rounded bushes of 
Baptisia australis are bristling with well-filled spikes of 
clouded blue, pea-shaped flowers. This plant, which 
grows four feet tall and as thick through, with the yellow 
Baptisia tinctoria, are splendid all-summer subjects, for 
they retain their fine rounded form until cut down by 
frost. The foliage of australis is somewhat metallic in 
colour, while that of tinctoria is very pale green, both 
valuable in various colour arrangements and blending 
well with their own blossoms. The Baptisias are easily 
raised from seed, but require several years to arrive at an 
effective size. Frequent division is not desirable, and 
they will grow as well in the deep, rich soil of the borders 
as in damp places, though the latter is their choice. 

A grand burst of Paeonies usually celebrates the ar- 
rival of June. The old crimson Pseony and the lovely 
albiflora belong to May and are past, and the memory of 
their simple sweetness is almost effaced by the wonders 
of form and colour which follow in the train of June. 
Some are so double as to be nearly as round as balls; 
others, like great loose-petalled Water-lilies; still others 
that are called "anemone-flowered," with a rounded 
tuft of petals in the centre and a circle of flat florets, and 
still others are quite single. And the colours range from 



86 MY GARDEN 

pure white and cream through all the diaphanous pinlis 
to rose and amaranth and dark, rich crimson. 

To open a Pseony catalogue is to be plunged into be- 
wilderment, for there are countless varieties, each sound- 
ing more desirable than the last. We have not many 
kinds here — only twelve, besides the May flowerers — and 
none of the fine single ones as yet. Our list is of the less 
expensive sorts, but all are beautiful: 

Festiva maxima — round, pure white, flecked crimson. 

Mme. Calot — silvery pink. , . ^ 

Mons. Chas. Leveque — soft salmon-pink. \^'^ 

Duchesse de Nemours — white with creamy heart. Fragrant. 

Candidissima — white with buff centre. 

Albert Crousse — fresh salmon-pink. Very fragrant. 

Claude Lorraine — flesh-pink — loose petals. 

Marie Lemoine — white — fragrant. 

Philomele — deep cream colour with pink collar. 

Paul Joubert — crimson with gold anthers. 

Gloria Mundi — blush, centre pale yellow — sweet scented. 

Mme. Forel — bright rose. 

Louis van Houtte — dark purple-crimson. 

Pseonies will grow under almost any conditions, as is 
shown by the fine plants we see in the tangled grass of 
deserted gardens, but they respond magnificently to a 
heavily manured soil, and in partial shade the blossoms 
will show a finer colour and last longer in perfection. 
Once planted, they should not be dug up and divided, 
but left in peace to grow into huge bushes that will in 
time produce dozens of splendid flowers. Pseonies are 
lovely grown in wide borders with the free-growing June 



JUNE MAGIC 87 

Roses, with clumps of the great Dalmatian Iris, and 
bushes of Rue and Southernwood. 

Pinks belong to June and are, of all her belongings, the 
very sweetest; indeed, they seem to me the sweetest 
flowers of any month. Once I set out to know all the 
Pinks, wild and tame, but soon found that my garden 
was not suited to all: the little alpines, Dianthus 
neglectus, alpinus, glacialis, and some others that I 
sought to please, dwindled and pined in a sadly home- 
sick manner. I gathered together all the. catalogues, 
foreign and domestic, that listed the seeds, or plants of 
Pinks, and collected all the Pink literature — which is 
little enough, considering the charm of the subject — and 
after much experimenting and petitioning, have a deli- 
cious company settled in nooks and corners about the 
garden, though many that I wanted badly could not see 
their way to stay. 

The first I had was, of course, Dianthus plumarius, 
the Grass or Scotch Pink, that everybody knows and 
loves. It has many fine hybrids, some so fine as to cost 
twenty-five cents the packet, but the cheaper ones are as 
sweet, and they are among the friendliest things of 
the whole summer, spreading quickly into great soft- 
coloured mats, starred with sweet, fringed blossoms, 
double or single. The old pure-white fringed Pink, D. 
fimbriatus, and its double sort make charming border 
edgings, and another good white one for this purpose is 
Mrs. Sinkins, very fat and double. Still others are Her 



88 MY GARDEN 

Majesty and Albion (white), Delicata (pink), Gloriosa 
(rose), and Excelsior (pink with carmine centre). The 
Mule Pinks, too, are splendid, with Napolian III, valiant 
red, as the finest; Furst Bismark, lovely rose-colour, a 
charming second; and Alice, a fluffy double white, not far 
behind. These, of course, bear no seed and must be in- 
creased by cuttings or division. 

Of the wild Pinks, the first we had was the Cheddar 
Pink, Dianthus caesius, the seeds of which were sent us 
from the Cheddar Cliffs in England, where we had seen 
them accomplishing veritable explosions of rosy bloom 
upon the ledges of the fierce gray cliffs. All this first lot 
I lost, for while they did their part in germinating to a 
seed, I was so stupid as not to know how to make them 
feel at home and put them in the fat borders, where the 
winter damp put an end to these cliff-dwellers in short 
order. But one does not make so cruel a mistake twice, 
and now there are plenty of Cheddars tucked about in 
sunny nooks between the stones 'of walls and steps 
where they are quite hardy and at peace. The Maiden 
Pink, D. deltoides, a tiny thing of dry British pastures, is 
one of the easiest to grow and exhibits a vigour one does 
not expect from so small a thing. Its blunt leaves are 
small and dark, and it grows into such thick mats as to 
form something very like a turf, which may be used 
upon dry banks where grass is cared for with difficulty. 
But it belongs to the garden, too, and fringes my wall 
tops and stone edgings charmingly. The flowers are so 



JUNE MAGIC 89 

pink as to be quite jewel-like in their brightness, and 
there is a white sort which foams over the edgings and 
into the path with quite distracting results. The Sand 
Pink, D. arenarius, is quite different in character, form- 
ing strong tufts of bluish-green foliage, from which rise 
slender stems, carrying deeply cut white blossoms, very 
sweetly scented; it likes a light sandy soil and rejoices in 
a comfortable cranny, if one is to be had. D. petraeus 
is a small, sweet, fringy, rose-coloured alpine from the 
Balkans, disliking wet feet in winter, but otherwise of 
easy culture. D. Seguieri forms nice, upstanding little 
bushes more than a foot high with light-green leaves and 
gay purple-spotted, rose-coloured blossoms. D. super- 
bus is a pretty thing blooming freely the first year from 
seed. Its tall stems, over two feet in height, carry several 
lilac-pink fringed blossoms, which, if not allowed to seed, 
continue all summer. This Pink will grow in the ordi- 
nary soil of the borders, not requiring a cranny. D. 
atrorubens is not one of the fragrant Pinks, but its small, 
rich red blossoms clustered in a flat head like a small 
Sweet William make up in glow what they lack in other 
qualities. It remains in bloom for a long time. 

The song of my Pinks is almost at an end, for there re- 
mains only D. sylvestris, the Wood Pink, which does not 
like the woods at all, but full sunshine, and which has the 
reputation of being what Mr. Reginald Farrer would call 
a "miff" and may prove so here. It is a new acquaint- 
ance and still occupies a gravelly bed in the nursery, but 



90 MY GARDEN 

its tufts of narrow bluish foliage are in such a flattering 
condition of health that my hopes are high for a grand 
display before long. Mr. Correvon describes it thus, 
*'the pink flowers large, elegant, bluish spotted at the 
base of the petals, with blue-lilac anthers; petals more or 
less toothed. The plant is stout and strong, and ex- 
tremely floriferous, blooming from June to September in 
rock work in full sun."* 

Of course all the Pinks marry and intermarry, and 
bring forth many a soft-coloured, sweet-breathed sur- 
prise for me, and I should miss them more than any of 
the garden's children. They are plants for sunny nooks 
and corners, friendly things to be tended by loving hands 
and enjoyed by those who care for what is sweet and 
simple. As old Parkinson knew, they are "of a most 
fragrant scent, comforting the spirits and senses afar 
off." 

This brings us to friend Sweet William, who, while not 
a Pink, is yet a Dianthus and so belongs here. The old 
garden books speak both of Sweet Williams and Sweet 
Johns, the latter being distinguished by very narrow 
leaves, and I am sure there were Johns growing in the 
tangled grass about this farmhouse when we came to 
live here, for the very narrow leaves of the Sweet 
Williams I found puzzled me. But I did not then know 
about Johns, and as the flowers were of that wishy- 



*It proved to be no "miff," but a lovely, hardy little plant, quite happy in its 
gravelly bed and remained in bloom a long time. 



JUNE MAGIC 91 

washy, anaemic, red colour which has given magenta a 
bad name, I did not try to save any in the "cleaning 
up.'* Sweet Williams are old and valued friends and 
most helpful in the June scheme of things. The lovely 
salmon-pink variety is a real acquisition, and the fluffy, 
double white ones are pretty, too. I do not care for the 
two-coloured sorts, but the fine blackish crimson one, 
that John Rea describes as a "deep, rich murrey velvet 
colour" and considered "the finest of the Williams," is 
very splendid and useful for grouping with flowers of a 
raw red shade. 

Sweet Williams seem to have a natural aflBnity for 
Foxgloves, as any one will agree who has seen them in- 
citing each other to greater achievements of discordant 
colour in old gardens where they have been allowed to 
seed promiscuously. But this affinity may be taken 
advantage of to bring about a very happy union if 
white Foxgloves and salmon Sweet Williams are brought 
together, and I like to add to this group clumps of 
striped grass or Gardener's Garters. Sweet Williams 
are best treated as biennials, as the old plants lose their 
stocky form and deteriorate generally, and it is best to 
buy fresh seed and not depend upon the gypsy seedlings, 
for these usually hark back to their magenta forebears. 

In old works on gardening Thrift (Armeria) is al- 
ways included under the head of Pinks, and the tidy, 
tufted growth and rosy blossoms of both certainly sug- 
gest kinship. The Sea, or Cushion Pink, Armeria 



92 MY GARDEN 

maritima, in its variety Laucheana, is a gay little thing 
with dense tufts of dark foliage studded with brilliant 
pink blossoms. There is a white variety, and both were 
largely used in the old days for "impaling" or edging the 
quaint "knottes" which held within bounds the sweet 
tangle of old-fashioned Roses, Lavender, and Rockets of 
Elizabethan gardens. It is as good for this purpose now 
as then, and may also be used in little groups along the 
borders or between the stones. A. Cephalotes (syn. 
latifolia) is a pretty little plant, too, but taller, sending 
up its wiry stems a foot high and bearing its globes of 
rosy bloom with a jaunty air. A. caespitosa is a charm- 
ing alpine species which sends up tall stems from its 
tuft of green bearing pink flower heads. It requires a 
poor rather sandy soil and a sunny nook between two 
stones. 

Foxgloves are widely known and grown and loved, 
and the June garden would lack much without their 
graceful spires. The creamy white ones are the pret- 
tiest, and it is best in any case to buy the seeds in sep- 
arate colours, for the magenta sorts are not suitable for 
many associations. Here we grow them with bushes of 
Southernwood and Rue, with gray Stachys lanata and 
the gleaming Snow Queen Iris. The white ones are 
never amiss and the tall spires of "beauty long drawn 
out " rise from every part of the garden. Of course the 
biennial character of these plants makes it necessary to 
raise them every year from seed, but they usually seed 




JUNE MAGIC 
"wherever the eye wanders is a lovely picture — THE GAY THRONG 
OF FOXGLOVES, SWEET WILLIAMS, IRISES, PEONIES, PINKS, AND OLD- 
FASHIONED roses" 



JUNE MAGIC 93 

themselves so freely that we are saved this piece of work. 
We entertain here two other Foxgloves — Digitalis 
ambigua (syn. grandiflora), and D. orientalis* Both are 
yellow-flowered — the former growing about two feet tall 
and producing its belled flower spikes off and on all 
summer and autumn, and the latter, taller with smaller 
flowers. 

In a corner of the garden with some bushes of South- 
ernwood and white Moss Roses grows an old-fashioned 
plant called Fraxinella (Dictamnus), sometimes called 
Burning Bush from the fact, claimed to have been dis- 
covered by the daughter of Linnseus, that after night- 
fall an inflammable vapour comes from the blossoms; 
but though we have many times experimented, singed 
fingers have been our only reward — and this through 
holding the matches too long. However, the Fraxinella, 
when well established, is a very beautiful plant growing 
into stout clumps with beautiful dark foliage lasting in 
fine condition the summer through and bearing spikes 
of white or purplish fringy flowers with a strange odour 
which the children declare is both "horrid and nice." 
The plants should not be dug up and divided, but left to 
themselves will outlast whole generations of mere humans. 

In another part of the garden is a lovely picture where 
the shell-like bloom of a climbing Rose, Newport Fairy, 
creates just the right background for a group composed 
of fleecy Spircea Aruncus, tall purple Campanula lati- 

*These are both perennials. 



94 MY GARDEN 

folia var. macrantha, and Lyme Grass. The Spiraea is a 
fine plant of this season, but requires a deep, rich, reten- 
tive soil to be at its best, for it is a moisture lover. The 
herbaceous Spiraeas have not done very well in my 
garden, it is too dry, but for damp situations there are 
many good sorts. Aruncus, however, has been an ex- 
ception with one other, S. Filipendulafl. pL, the double- 
flowered Dropwort, growing about two feet tall, with 
feathery foliage and heads of white flowers. Both are 
m a north border in heavy, deep soil. 

The Campanulas are a large family of varying merit 
and blossom, in the different varieties, in May, June, 
July, and August. C. glomerata, the Clustered Hairbell, 
is a good May sort about a foot high with rich purple or 
white flowers. The best June Bellflowers besides lati- 
folia macrantha, which grows about three feet tall, and 
also has a white variety, are the well-known Canter- 
bury Bell, C. Medium, the tall C. lactiflora, and the lovely 
Peach-leaved Bellflower, C. persicifolia. This is a 
beautiful plant and quite the flower of the Campanulas 
to my thinking — sending up from a tuft of narrow, 
shining leaves stems two or three feet tall, well hung 
with glistening white or lavender-blue bells. Humosa is 
a light-blue double sort, and Moerheimii a very fine 
double-flowered white. These are charming planted in 
little thickets with the late yellow Columbine, A. 
chrysantha, or with bright coral-coloured Heucheras, 
such as Pluie de Feu, or Rosamund. The plants re- 



JUNE MAGIC 95 

quire yearly^ division, and our stock may also be in- 
creased by means of the offsets that are freely produced. 

A fine new sort is lactiflora alba magnifica. C. lac- 
tiflora blooms toward the end of the month and into 
July, and has spikes of bells the colour of skimmed 
milk. There is a white sort, too, and both are useful 
plants but such formidable seeders that they become a 
pest if allowed a free hand, and so we are careful to cut 
off the flower stalks as soon as the blossoming is past. 

Of course all the June pictures have Roses as one 
element in their composition, for they are everywhere — 
toppling over the high stone walls, smothering the low 
ones, creating fairy halls of the pergolas and arbours; 
and besides the climbers there are those which grow in 
lovely long-limbed abandon as bushes, mingling freely 
and democratically with the perennials. In front of a 
post, which has the felicity of supporting a peach-pink 
American Pillar Rose, grows a mass of feathery Clematis 
recta and several plants of the sky-blue Italian Alkanet, 
Anchusa italica. The Anchusa is a lovely thing, and no 
plant, not excepting the Delphinium itself, decks itself 
in a more truly azure colour. Its height varies con- 
siderably with me according to soil and situation and its 
own sweet will; it may be anywhere from two to four 
feet tall. Better than the type is the Dropmore 
variety, and better still, it is said, is that called Opal, but 
to this I cannot testify. Anchusas have a longer con- 
secutive period of bloom than the Delphiniums, for if 



96 MY GARDEN 

the great central stalk is cut down after flowering, 
laterals spring up, which carry it into August. These 
plants seem not to mind the drought at all, which should 
gain for them our especial interest, and they are easily 
raised from seed. As it is practically a biennial one has 
to take its propagation into account, and while raising 
it from seed is simple enough, much quicker and more 
satisfactory is the method given by Mr. W. P. Wright 
in his invaluable book on hardy perennials. "When 
spring comes there is a brown stump which looks to be 
entirely devoid of life. It may be broken away almost 
like bark from a tree and it will probably be found that 
there is a green sprout below, which may be left to grow. 
As regards the barklike parts, they may be cut into 
pieces with a sharp knife, and will prove to be fleshy and 
quick. The portions may be covered with moist, gritty 
soil in a pot or box and put in a warm frame or green- 
house. Shoots will start from them, which may be re- 
moved with a ' heel ' of the older growth and inserted in 
small pots. They will root and form plants in due 
course. Pieces of the horse-radish-like taproots may 
also be inserted, as they are likely to root and make 
plants." Anchusas should be transplanted when quite 
small if possible, as the deep-burrowing taproot is diffi- 
cult to get out intact. 

These sky-blue flowers are lovely grown near the 
blushing Stanwells' Perpetual Brier Rose, and we have 
it charmingly situated in front of a ticUis occupied 



JUNE MAGIC 97 

jointly by the white Rose Trier and a pinky-mauve 
Clematis of the Viticella type. Bees love the Alkanets 
as they do its relatives, Borage and our native Buglos, 
and there is always a pleasant drone and hum in its 
neighbourhood. I do not know if it is a scientific fact 
that bees best love blue flowers, but they seem to, giving 
them preference even over white ones which are said to 
be the most fragrant. 

Of course the pride of the late June garden is her 
Delphiniums, and perhaps I may bring wrath upon my- 
self when I say that I cannot but feel that these beauti- 
ful flowers are in grave danger of being done to death by 
the hybridists. A long way have they travelled since 
Hood sang, "Light as a loop of Larkspur," and what 
with doubling and crowding are in a fair way to be 
called stout, though somehow their celestial colour 
makes the unflattering epithet seem unfit and keeps one 
in mind of their slim youth. Every season many new 
varieties are put forth to dazzle the world and they make 
superb blocks of colour in the garden, but I cling to 
those which are less perfect from a florist's viewpoint. 
The true Belladonna is an exquisite, graceful plant, 
and many of its offspring reproduce this fine quality of 
the parent — and there is another sort, which we used to 
get as formosum coelestinum, now doubtless looked 
upon as a back number but which has the same willowy 
grace and celestial colour. 

Persimmon, Lizzie van Veen, and Capri are lovely sky- 



98 MY GARDEN 

blue sorts. King of Delphiniums is a strong dark blue 
with a plum-coloured flush. Lizzie is a good bright blue 
slightly flushed; Queen Wilhelmina, large, light-blue 
flowers with a white eye; and Somerset, light blue and 
lavender with a dark eye. There are white sorts of re- 
cent introduction, but these never seem to me true 
Larkspurs, so strongly does the word seem to stand for 
blue. 

A package of mixed Delphinium seed purchased from 
a reliable house will produce lovely results, the plants 
blooming the first season if sown early. In our hot 
climate Delphiniums should be given a rich, well- 
manured soil, and copious watering in June will insure 
better flower spikes and a longer stay. If the spent 
flower stalks are cut to the ground another blossoming 
may be enjoyed in the late summer and fall. Yearly 
division is not necessary: every third year is often 
enough, when they may be taken up and divided in 
April, just after growth has started. Beautiful pictures 
may be made by planting Delphiniums against the 
trellises of gay climbing Roses. 

There is a strong coloured group of flowers belonging 
to June and early July which, while they seem far re- 
moved from the azure Delphiniums and Anchusas, the 
soft coloured Foxgloves and Spiraeas, nevertheless play 
an important part in our colour arrangements. Gail- 
lardias are bright and useful, blooming from spring until 
frost if not allowed to seed too freely, and no plant 



JUNE MAGIC 99 

in the garden, unless it be the ethereal Gypsophila, so 
sturdily defies the drought. Red and yellow is their 
colour scheme and they exhibit many variations upon 
it. There are many named varieties listed in foreign 
catalogues which sound attractive. Gaillardias look best 
planted in fair-sized colonies, and Baptisia tinctoria, 
or the striped Grass, known as Gardener's Garters, is a 
good background for them. 

"The Coreopsis like another sun 
Risen at Noonday," 

is a conspicuous object in the mid-June garden. I be- 
lieve it is the yellowest thing of the whole summer, but 
it is a sharp colour and needs a softening haze of Gyp- 
sophila to make it happy. Scarlet Lychnis is another 
plant with a difficult colour to which the Gypsophila is 
helpful. It is a strong-growing plant with good, lasting 
foliage suited to the back of the border. 

A number of bright-coloured Lilies bloom in June. 
The Herring Lilies, L. croceum, are particularly bold 
and splendid in the neighbourhood of the Belladonna 
Delphiniums; and those of the elegans type, red, apricot, 
or yellow are pretty grown among the tufts of frail 
white Heuchera toward the front of the borders. 



CHAPTER SIX 

JULY PROBLEMS 

What right have we to blame the Garden 
Because the plant has withered there? 

— Hafiz. 

JULY is often a discouraging month to a gardener 
who does not employ a great many annuals. Fol- 
lowing upon the exuberance of June, it seems a sort 
of pause, a breathing spell before the grand display of 
almost unfailing Phloxes and their train of late summer 
flowers. It is quite true that there are not as many 
well-known flowers belonging to this month and, in 
consequence, many gardens are quite scantily clothed 
with bloom. For years my own June pride was regularly 
shattered by the blank which followed the departure of 
the Flag Irises, Paeonies, and tumultuous Roses, and it 
required many years of study and "trying out" before 
I learned how many fine plants there are, other than 
annuals, with which to beautify this high noon of the 
year. 

In July, also, we have the elements against us; 
whether it is against pitiless drought or fierce electric 
storms that we must contend, it is very difficult to keep 
the garden in good condition and the plants are bound 

100 



JULY PROBLEMS 101 

to suffer somewhat. In time of drought the garden 
assumes an air of passive endurance; one does not feel 
the growing and blowing, and while there may be plenty 
of bloom, it appears to be produced without enthusiasm 
and quite lacks the spontaneous exuberant quality that 
one is conscious of in the earlier year. Then must we 
stir the soil assiduously to conserve what little moisture 
there may be left and water whenever that may be done 
thoroughly, as surface wettings do more harm than 
good. 

Hardly less painful to the plants are the electric 
storms with twisting, devastating winds and pounding 
rains, and woe to the gardener who has not done his 
staking in season and with intelligence! A prostrate 
garden is his bitter portion, and not all the king's horses 
and all the gardeners in the world can repair the broken 
stalks of Larkspur and Hollyhock, raise up the crushed 
masses of Coreopsis, Gypsophila, and Anthemis, or mend 
the snapped stems of lovely Lilies. A storm, such as we 
are all familiar with, can do damage in half an hour that 
we, even with Nature's willing cooperation, may not re- 
pair in many weeks. But with faithful cultivation, in- 
telligent watering and staking, and a knowledge of the 
plants at one's command, much may be done to avert 
calamity and to make this month a month as full of in- 
terest and beauty as the gay seasons past and to come. 

Tall spires of Larkspur are still reaching skyward 
when July comes in. Sweet Williams, Coreopsis, Scar- 



102 MY GARDEN 

let Lychnis, Madonna and Herring Lilies are still in 
good order, and there is often a host of self-sown or early- 
sown annuals creating bright patches of colour about the 
borders, but in our garden the most prominent features 
of early July are Hollyhocks and the great sunshiny 
Mulleins. 

For many years a hideous disfiguring disease rendered 
Hollyhocks almost useless for garden purposes and it 
was only in out-of-the-way corners in humble gardens 
that this poor plant, once so lauded and admired, raised 
its stricken head. The disease first shows itself in ugly 
brown pimples on the under side of their foliage and it 
works so quickly that soon the whole flower stalk stands 
bravely flying its colours still, but denuded of its green- 
ery or with a few tattered leaves hanging forlornly 
about it. Much has been done of late years, however, 
by lovers of the Hollyhock to alleviate its sufferings, and 
it is now quite possible with a few precautions or reme- 
dies to have this splendid flower in its integrity. We 
seldom have a diseased plant in our garden, and our 
secret is simply to give them plenty of sun and air, a rich 
soil, and to treat them as biennials. Old plants are 
much more apt to have the disease, and Hollyhocks are 
so easily raised from seed that to keep up a stock of 
young ones in the nursery is a very simple matter. We 
dig up the old plants and throw them away. Plants out 
in the open (not against walls or fences) where the air 
may circulate freely about them are much more likely 




HOLLYHOCKS ARE AMONG THE MOST PICTORIAL OF PLANTS, AND IT IS 
VERY DIFFICULT TO FIND ANYTHING ELSE TO TAKE THEIR PLACE. I LIKE 
BEST THE SINGLE ONES IN PINK AND BLACKISH CRIMSON, PALE YELLOW AND 
PURE WHITE, BUT THE DOUBLE ONES ARE VERY FINE AND OPULENT, AND 
THE LOVELY SHADES AND TINTS TO BE HAD VERY NUMEROUS" 



JULY PROBLEMS 103 

to be healthy, but we have found that by using only 
young plants we can put them in almost any position. 
Bone meal and wood ashes are both good as tonics for 
the Hollyhocks, and there are a number of sprays recom- 
mended for afflicted plants. Bordeaux mixture used 
several times in spring is an old reliable remedy, and 
Mr. C. H. Jenkins in his "Hardy Flower Book" recom- 
mends a treatment the simplicity of which is certainly in 
its favour: "Use a breakfast cup full of common salt to 
three gallons of water. Employ an Abol syringe with 
fine mistlike spray so that the solution does not reach 
the roots of the plant." This should be done about 
every two weeks in spring. 

Hollyhocks are among the most pictorial of plants, and 
it is very difficult to find anything else to take their 
place. I like best the single ones in pink and blackish 
crimson, pale yellow and pure white, but the double ones 
are very fine and opulent, and the lovely shades and 
tints to be had very numerous. One I had from Eng- 
land, called Prince of Orange, was a splendid orange- 
copper colour, and there are now many named varieties. 
I have a fine group of salmon-pink Hollyhocks against a 
large tree of the Purple-leaved Plum, and another cherry- 
coloured group has a fine background in a pink Dorothy 
Perkins Rose which drapes the wall behind it. White 
Hollyhocks are fine with Tiger Lilies, and there are many 
other good associations for them. Althaea ficifolia is a 
very pretty pale yellow-flowered single sort called the 



104 MY GARDEN 

Fig Leaved Hollyhock. This plant is slender in growth 
and sends up lateral stalks which keep it in bloom all 
summer long. 

Next to Hollyhocks, or quite equal to them in pictu- 
resque value, save that they have not the wide colour 
range, are the radiant Mulleins. Every one knows the 
noble outline of the wild Mullein, Verbascum Thapsus, 
and also its bad habit of opening but a few of its blos- 
soms at a time. The foreign and hybrid Mulleins have 
the same splendid form and clothe their great cande- 
labra-like stalks in solid bloom which continues to de- 
velop during the greater part of the summer. Mulleins 
are friends of only about four years' standing, but to no 
other flower am I more grateful for fine and lasting effect. 
Their soft yellow colour is so sunshiny as to really seem 
to cast a radiance and is so non-combative as to affiliate 
well with almost any other colour. The splendid V. 
Olympicum was the first I knew. It is, like most of the 
others, biennial in character and grows seven feet high. 
V. phlomoides is as splendid and as tall, and V. pannosum 
has woolly leaves and grows about five feet high. V. 
phoeniceum is a low-growing sort, two feet, sending up 
from a flat rosette of leaves a spike set with flowers of 
rose or purple or white, but this sort seems to me much 
less worthy than the others. V. nigrum has yellow 
flowers marked with purple and grows four feet tall; 
there is a white variety of this. 

Of late years a number of good hybrids have been 



JULY PROBLEMS 105 

created among which Harkness Hybrid, four feet tall 
with yellow flowers, is one of the best. Miss Willmot is a 
beautiful long-lasting variety bearing large white flowers 
on stems six feet high, and Caledonia is a lower growing 
sort with sulphur-yellow flowers suffused with bronze 
and purple. There are two verbascums, namely densi- 
florum and newryensis, which are said to be true 
perennials, but I have not yet procured them. 

The Mulleins are splendid plants for our American 
gardens for they love a warm, dry soil and this we can 
certainly give them. They are easily raised from seed, 
perfectly hardy, and as they self-sow freely it is not 
necessary to keep up a stock in the nursery. The Greek 
Mullein, V. olympicum, which is my favourite, takes 
three years to develop its blooming ability with me, so I 
keep the great rosettes in the nursery for the first two. 
The tall-growing Mulleins are splendid plants for the 
back of the border and are lovely as a background for 
blue and silver Sea Hollies and Globe Thistles. 

The handsome Yarrow family offers several strong- 
growing and drought-resisting subjects for the July 
garden. They present no difficulty in the way of cultiva- 
tion and will grow in poor, dry soil if they must, but 
require yearly division. Achillea filipendulina (syn. 
Eupatorium), in a variety known as Parker's, is the 
flower of the flock. It grows in strong clumps throwing 
up stems four feet high nicely clothed with feathery 
foliage and terminating in broad corymbs of golden 



106 MY GARDEN 

bloom. This plant is ornamental from the first appear- 
ance of its pleasant green in spring until autumn when 
the yellow flower heads have softened to a warm brown. 
It lives out its span of life in dignity and order, for its 
foliage remains in good condition to the last and it has 
no fuzzy untidy way of perpetuating itself. 

A cool picture for this summer season may be created 
with tall white Hollyhocks, Parker's Yarrow, early 
white Phlox, Miss Lingard, and a foreground of An- 
themis Kelwayi. A patch of tawny H enter ocallis fulva 
is a good neighbour for this group. Blue and white 
Aconites are fine with this Yarrow and also that 
splendid hardy plant, Erigeron speciosus var. superbus, 
which grows about two and one-half feet high and bears 
innumerable daisylike flowers of a fine lilac-purple from 
June until September. It may be easily raised from 
seed and will sometimes bloom the same season as 
sown. 

Achillea sericea is a good Yarrow having much the 
character of Parker's save that it grows but eighteen 
inches high and starts to flower in June. A. ptarmica^ 
fl. pl.y otherwise known as The Pearl, we have banished 
from our borders though it is a much-lauded plant by 
many and is good for cutting; it has no domestic 
qualities, must rove and stray, insinuating its wander- 
ing rootlets into the internal affairs of its neighbours and 
choking out many a timid resident. Its bloom is pretty 
and fluffy but its stems are weak and vacillating; alto- 



JULY PROBLEMS 107 

gether a frivolous and unstable creature to my thinking. 
There are some good little alpine Yarrows with gray 
foliage quite charming for creeping among the stones at 
the edge of the border. A. umbellata has pure- white 
flower heads. A. tomentosa has dark prostrate foliage 
and yellow flowers ; argentea has silvery foliage and white 
flowers. This little plant grows four inches high and 
the other two about six. 

There is no more important plant in the mid-summer 
garden than Gypsophila paniculata, variously known as 
Chalk Plant, or Baby's Breath, and called by the chil- 
drenhere "Lace Shawls." Seeminglyoblivious to scorch- 
ing sun and prolonged drought, it coolly carries out its 
delicate plan of existence from silver haze to cool white 
mist to fragile brown oblivion. No plant is so ex- 
quisite an accompaniment to so many others; indeed, 
any spot where it grows will soon become a lovely 
picture without our agency. Poppies sow their seed 
about it and rest their great blossoms upon its cloudlike 
bloom, and Nigellas and Snapdragons are particularly 
fine in association with it. One very pretty group here 
has Stachys lanata as a foreground with its gray velvet 
foliage and stalks of bloom now colouring to a pinky 
mauve. Behind is the cloudlike mound of Gypsophila, 
and resting upon it, its large flowers partly obscured by 
the mist, is a pinkish-mauve Clematis kermesina. The 
vine is supported upon pea-brush which does not show 
behind the Gypsophila. 



108 MY GARDEN 

In another corner that lovely and courageously 
magenta sprawler, Callirhoe involucrata, glistens ex- 
quisitely through the mist, and white Lilies rise in silver 
harmony behind. The double-flowered Gypsophila is a 
less ethereal but very beautiful plant and should find a 
home in every garden. The single sort is easily raised 
from seed but does not make any great show until the 
third year. G. repens is a fine little trailer for the edge 
of the border with a long period of bloom. 

The Moonpenny Daisies, Chrysanthemum maximum, 
are invaluable among mid-summer flowers. They make 
stout bushy clumps of dark foliage, two to three feet 
tall, with large, glistening, marguerite-like flowers of 
much substance. They spread broadly and should be 
divided every year, and they enjoy a moderately rich 
soil and sunshine. Good varieties are Mrs. C. Low- 
thian Bell, King Edward VII, Robinsoni, Mrs. F. 
Daniels, Mrs. Terstag, Alaska, and Kenneth. They are 
easily raised from seed and last a long time in bloom. 
The china whiteness of these blooms is a little hard so 
that they are at their best when associated with the soft- 
ening influence of such plants as the Artemisias, Rue, 
Stachys, Gypsophila, and Lyme Grass. 

Goat's Rue {Galega officinalis) is a soft-coloured de- 
lightful plant of the present season with attractive 
foliage and a good habit of growth. It is fine with 
Campanula lactoflora var. magnifica and late Orange 
Lilies. The delicate lavender sort is the prettiest, I think. 



JULY PROBLEMS 109 

though the white is also desirable; var. Hartlandi is 
considered an improvement. 

Several fine blue-flowered families make valuable con- 
tributions to the July garden and linger into August — 
Veronicas, Aconites, Platycodons, Eryngiums, and Echi- 
nops. 

The Veronicas are a splendid race with good foliage 
and attractive spikes of bloom, blue, rose, or white. 
Most of them are plants for the middle of the border, 
though the silver-leaved V. incana belongs in the front 
row with repens and prostrata, and the tall virginica may 
have a place at the back. V. spicata grows almost 
eighteen inches tall and bears many spikes of bright-blue 
flowers and has a good white variety and a washed-out 
rose sort. If cut after blooming it wiU bloom again 
toward autumn. 

V. virginica grows from four to six feet high and 
appreciates a heavy soil. Its feathery flower spikes 
(white) are very pretty as a background for salmon 
Phloxes such as Elizabeth Campbell or Mrs. Oliver. It 
is also wefl placed with the Rose Loosestrife. The 
head of the family is Veronica longifolia var. suhsessilis 
whose sonorous name in no way belies the vigorous dig- 
nity and importance of the plant. Its foliage is rich and 
strong, and in late July and August its long sapphire 
spikes of bloom are a delight indeed. If the season is 
not too dry it remains a long time in perfection and is 
on hand to welcome and complete the beauty of some of 



110 MY GARDEN 

the softly coloured pink Phloxes, Peach Blow, in par- 
ticular, with the becoming addition to the group of some 
metallic Sea Hollies. 

I must confess to having had some trouble with this 
Veronica; it certainly suffers from the drought, turning 
rusty in its nether parts, and yet seems to want a full 
view of the sun for, planted in shade, it languishes im- 
mediately. A rich retentive soil seems to bring it to 
fullest perfection, and it more than repays any trouble 
bestowed upon it. A little bone meal dug in about its 
roots in May strengthens its growth and seems to im- 
prove the colour of its flower spikes. I have not been 
able to raise this plant from seed, but it is easily increased 
by division of the roots in spring or by soft cuttings. I 
should advise planting it in spring as it is important that 
it should be well established before winter. 

The Platycodons are closely connected with the 
touse of Campanula. There are only three kinds 
in cultivation and they are easily raised from seed. 
P. grandiflorum grows about two feet high and bears 
many widely spreading steel-blue bells. The lovely 
white var. album is faintly lined with blue and always 
makes me think of the fresh blue and white aprons of 
little girls. The flowers of P. Mariesi are a somewhat 
less clouded blue and the plant is dwarf and compact. 

Chinese Bellflowers have a disadvantage in the brittle- 
ness of their stems. After a heavy rain they will be 
found flat upon the ground never to rise again, and 



JULY PROBLEMS 111 

they are difficult to support inconspicuously by the 
ordinary method of stake and raffia. I grow mine in 
good-sized clumps and stick stout, widely spread pieces 
of pea-brush about among them. This is the most 
satisfactory method, for it allows some of the stems to 
fall forward a little, giving to the clump an agreeable 
rounded outline. The thick fleshy root of the Platy- 
codon seems to enable it to ignore the drought, and its 
clean-cut, fresh -coloured blossoms are always a pleasant 
sight in the garden. 

The beautiful family of Aconites I always hesitate to 
recommend as the whole plant is very poisonous when 
eaten and, where there are children, might prove a 
serious danger. My own children know it well and its 
deadly consequences and avoid it assiduously. The 
fact that they are tall plants suitable for the back 
of the border makes it possible to put them pretty 
well out of reach, and they are among the most beau- 
tiful of the flowers blooming in mid-summer and au- 
tumn. They have long been among garden flowers; 
the old gardeners, Parkinson and Gerarde, give long 
lists of sorts, interspersing their admiring descriptions 
with illustrated warnings of the dire results of eating 
any part of the plant. Gerarde writes of A. Napellus: 
"this kinde of Wolfesbane, called Napellus vernus, in 
English, Helmet-flowers, or the Great Monkshood 
beareth very faire and goodly blew flowres in shape 
like an helmet, which are so beautiful that a man would 



112 MY GARDEN 

thinke they were of some excellent vertue — but, non 
est semper fides habenda fronti." The foliage is 
beautiful and shining, "much spread abroad and 
cut into many flits and notches." The flowering of 
Aconites covers a long period. The earliest here is a 
clouded blue sort with shining foliage which came to me 
as A. tauricum. It blooms in late June and July and 
is not more than three feet high. This was the first 
Aconite I grew, and, after reading the early herbalists, 
my mind was rather filled with the evil reputation of the 
plant so, when an army of little wicked-looking black 
toadstools appeared over night about the beautiful 
plant, it seemed most fitting — like an evil spirit and his 
minions. The Napellus varieties, the dark blue, pure 
white, and most of all, the bicolour, are all lovely and 
graceful plants growing about five feet tall and blooming 
through mid-summer. A. Wilsoni and Spark's variety 
are magnificent plants growing five or six feet high and 
bearing their spikes of rich-coloured hooded flowers in 
August and September. A. Fischeri is a clear blue sort 
not more than two feet high, which bridges the time be- 
tween Wilsoni and the October blooming A. autumnale. 
There are two yellow-flowered sorts, lycoctonum and 
'pyrenaicum, two and four feet high respectively, which 
bloom in August and September. 

The Aconites are impatient of a dry soil, so it should 
be rich and retentive. A north border suits them very 
well as they enjoy some shade, and they should be taken 



JULY PROBLEMS 113 

up and divided about every three years. I am very 
fond of a group of A. Napellus var. hicolour and Tiger 
Lilies which fills the angle made by the high wall and 
the garden house. The clean blue and white of these 
Aconites accompanies well the strange tawny hue worn 
by the Tiger Lilies and, lower down, a fine group of pure 
orange Bateman's Lily, growing behind the spreading 
light-green foliage of Funkia subcordata, completes a 
good north border group. They are also fine with the 
Phloxes' — pink and white and scarlet. 

One would not willingly do without the beautiful 
Monkshoods, so valuable are they in the summer and 
autumn gardens; but, in all our dealings with this 
"venomous and naughty herb," it is well to remember 
the terse warning of Dodoens that it is "very hurtful to 
man's nature and killeth out of hand." 

Eryngiums, or Sea Hollies, are plants of great interest 
and beauty, their silvery stems and foliage and deep- 
blue globular flower heads creating an unusually lovely 
effect. They are easily raised from seed and seem to 
take kindly to any soil in a sunny situation. E. mariti- 
mu7n, the true Sea Holly, is a low-growing plant for the 
front of the border with large glaucous foliage. E. 
alpinum and Oliverianum, two and one-half and three 
feet in height, with rich blue flower heads, are the best, I 
think, though planum, bearing an immense quantity of 
small blue flowers and amethystinum, more gray than 
blue, are both extremely good. Their subdued and 



114 MY GARDEN 

charming colour scheme enables us to use them with 
many flowers of their day. Most interesting are they 
with the Aconites and blue Veronicas, with Tiger Lilies 
or flame-coloured Phlox. With all the pink Phloxes 
they are lovely, but with the delicate Mme. Paul Dutre 
they produce a particularly charming harmony. 

Somewhat resembling the Sea Hollies are the Globe 
Thistles (Echinops) of which E. Ritro, three feet, and 
bannaticus, five feet, are good representatives. Both 
have metallic blue, thistle-like flowers and glaucous 
foliage. These may be used in the same colour combi- 
nations as the Sea Hollies and are as useful. 

A beautiful and little used native plant of late July 
is the Rose Loosestrife, Lythrum Salicaria var. rosea 
superba. It is a tall plant, four feet in height, carrying 
its leafy branches erectly and bearing at the top of each 
a long spike of rose or, perhaps one should admit, 
magenta flowers. But no one need hold aloof from what 
they are pleased to call " that fighting colour," for it is so 
frank and clean and splendid in this plant that it can 
but win admiration and respect. Pale, ivory -coloured 
Hollyhocks are charming in its neighbourhood, and 
such buff-coloured Gladioli as Isaac Buchanan. White 
Phlox and garnet Hollyhocks become it well, and a 
daring but successful association for it is strong blue 
Monkshood and blue-green Rue. It is not a plant 
which requires frequent division, but it desires a deep, 
retentive soil and a sunny situation. 



CHAPTER SEVEN 

WANING SUMMER 

"A something in a summer's day, 
As slow its flambeaux burn away 
Which solemnizes me." 

— Emily Dickenson. 

THIS, August, is the month, when, if ever, the 
gardener may claim a well-earned rest. The 
vigorous determination of weeds seems some- 
what daunted, staking is, or should be, done, all "bed- 
ding out" is accomplished, and there is little to do save 
watering and cultivating and the occasional guidance of 
the seeking, reaching arms of climbing Roses and other 
vines. Of course, the aster beetle may have arrived in 
staggering hordes, moles may be tunnelling imperturb- 
ably beneath one's most precious plants, or the garden 
may be drying up in the fierce clutches of relentless 
drought — any of which misfortunes would keep one 
busy. But these are not certainties, and ordinarily one 
may spend a good deal of time wandering about the 
garden, dreaming dreams of future improvement or just 
idly enjoying the fruits of one's labours. Strange to 
say, it is the time when I enjoy the garden least. I do 
not quite like this feeling that my plants are not so de- 

115 



116 MY GARDEN 

pendent upon me and that if I should leave them for a 
while they would do very well until I got back. I miss 
the incentive of the crowded days of early spring and am 
apt to wax over-critical of my garden and dissatisfied 
with my efforts to make it beautiful. Now is perhaps 
the one time of the year when we are able to survey the 
garden with the cold eye of a visitor and see just what is 
wrong, and it is well that such a pause should be forced 
upon us, else we should never improve our gardens. The 
fall bulb lists are arriving and the spring pictures should 
be restudied and bulbs added to any parts of the garden 
that we remember as having lacked colour in the spring. 
Now is the time to order and set out the scaly bulbs that 
mean shimmering white lilies in June and July, and 
also those small bulbs, so graciously inexpensive, that 
promise us ranks of gay Spanish Iris. 

Nowadays the garden is riotous with annuals, if we 
have allowed many of them in, and many of July's 
flowers are still making a brave show. Among these are 
Hollyhocks, Moonpenny Daisies, Mulleins, Loosestrife, 
Monkshood, Veronicas, Tiger Lilies, Globe Thistles, Sea 
Hollies, and Anthemis, but the dominant figure of the 
August garden is the Phlox. 

This plant is a native, and with true American per- 
spicacity and enterprise has forged his way from 
magenta obscurity to the most prominent place in the 
floral world. The Phlox, in the words of the catalogu- 
ist, is certainly "the grandest, hardy perennial," bril- 



WANING SUMMER 117 

liant, easy to manage, self-supporting, quickly in- 
creased, fragrant, and beautiful. No plant, known to 
me, makes such solid colour masses or is more orderly and 
upright in its habit. It usually enjoys the best of 
health, and I know of only one disease which attacks it 
and this is not usual; it is fungous in character and is 
more apt to attack the plants in low, damp situations. 
The old purple parent of the gorgeous modern Phloxes 
will grow and thrive in any situation, but the modern 
beauties need good rich food and water in dry weather if 
they are to develop their huge flower heads to anything 
like the size we are encouraged to expect. A dry poor 
soil is no place for them, but they do very well in partial 
shade. Bone meal and superphosphate may be used to 
strengthen the plants and round out the great flower 
heads. They may be planted either in spring or fall, 
but I have had the best results from early fall planting 
as this allows the plant to become established before 
summer droughts which are very hard upon newly 
planted stock. Old plants need to be broken up and re- 
planted about every third year and the faded blossoms 
should be cut off before seed forms, as seedlings become 
a real pest, seldom coming true to the colour of the 
parent and usually exhibiting strong magenta traits 
which prevent their living in amity with their blood re- 
lations. Phloxes, nowadays, show many fine colours: 
all shades of pink, scarlet, cerise, lavender and purple, 
and white, with or without a pink eye. If more than 



118 MY GARDEN 

one variety is to be used in a group careful study of the 
colours is advised either in a nearby nursery or by buy- 
ing one each of a number of kinds, for some of the pinks 
and scarlets and lavenders are badly opposed to each 
other, while others blend charmingly. 

Each year many novelties with alluring descriptions 
are introduced, but the list below is chosen from those 
of tested worth: 



Aurore — salmon-scarlet — purple eye 3 feet 

America — salmon-pink — deeper eye 2^ " 

Africa — dark cherry colour 2| " 

Albion — creamy-white — pink eye 2| " 

Antonin Mercie — white — lilac margin 3 " 

Baron Van Dedem — bright scarlet 2 " 

Coquelicot — orange-scarlet 2 " 

Count Von Hochberg — maroon 3 " 

Eclaireur — carmine shading to cream 3 " 

Elizabeth Campbell — salmon shading to pink . . . . 2^ " 

Eugene Danzanvilliers — lilac — white eye 3 " 

Etna — orange-scarlet 3| " 

Frau Anton Buchner — pure white 3 " 

G. H. Strohlein — orange scarlet — carmine eye . . . 3^ " 

Hanny Pfleiderer — cream, changing to salmon ... 3 " 

Javanaise — white — lilac edge 4 " 

Mad. Paul Dutrie — pale pink — white centre . . . .3 " 

Mrs. Oliver — salmon — light eye 2| " 

Rijnstroom — rich salmon 2^ " 

Siebold — orange-scarlet — dark eye 3 " 

Mrs. Jenkins — pure white 3 

Gen. Van Heutsz — salmon-red — white eye .... 3 

Peachblow — exquisite pink 3 

Tapis Blanc — pure white 2 

Wm. Robinson — salmon — violet centre 4 



WANING SUMMER 119 

The best of the July-blooming Phloxes (which belong 
to the Suffruticosa group) is Miss Lingard, white with 
pale eye. 

An important new race of Phloxes has been recently 
introduced, called P. Arendsi. They are the result of 
a cross between the charming P. divaricata and P. de- 
cussata. The plants are of strong branching habit, from 
one to two feet tall, and bloom the latter part of May. 
The flowers are large and the colour — frequently that of 
the lovely P. divaricata — clear lilac. 

Sea Hollies and Globe Thistles are particularly ef- 
fective with the August-flowering Phloxes, and another 
plant happy with the pink and salmon sorts is Clematis 
davidiana, with opaque lavender blossoms, which last a 
long time in good condition. The great Sea Lavender, 
Statice latifolia, with its huge heads of mauve- coloured, 
mistlike bloom, is lovely with P. Mad. Paul Dutrie, or 
Mrs. Oliver. This Sea Lavender grows about two feet 
high, sending up its flower spikes from a tuft of rather 
coarse leaves. It requires a rich soil, and frequent di- 
vision is neither necessary nor desirable. 

Groups of white and lavender Phlox are much im- 
proved by sheaves of flaming Montbretias, or orange- 
scarlet Snapdragons. The gray-toliaged plants are lovely 
with groups of pink and scarlet Phloxes, and many 
other harmonious associations will suggest themselves 
to the designer of August pictures. 

The great mass of summer and autumn flowering 



no MY GARDEN 

plants belong to the natural order Compositae — that is, 
having a mass of tiny florets crowded together in the 
centre and surrounded by an involucre, as in the field 
daisy, and as these flowers are all very similar in form, in 
spite of variations in colour, the garden is apt to be less 
varied and interesting at this season unless we are 
careful not to let the composites predominate. Their 
flowers lack the charm and suggestion which we find in 
those of more irregular design, and many of the plants 
are weedy and gawky in habit, so that intelligent 
selection should be made from the long lists of Rud- 
beckias, Heleniums, Helianthuses, Pyrethrums, Asters, 
Boltonias, and Chrysanthemums offered us in the cata- 
logues. 

Of the Rudbeckias I think R. Newmani is perhaps the 
most useful. It grows about two feet tall and bears in 
great profusion throughout the summer and fall large 
daisylike flowers, like Black-eyed Susans, with a dark 
cone in the centre. This plant suffers in dry weather 
and likes a retentive soil or shade for part of the day. 
R. laciriiata, fl. pL, better known as Golden Glow, has 
long been banished from our garden enclosure, though 
the blossoms are pretty and good for cutting. The 
plant is long-legged, gawky, and weak-kneed, and it 
spreads rapidly without encouragement and frequently 
quite swallows up its neighbours. The purple Cone 
flower, Rudbeckia purpurea, or Echinacea purpurea as it 
is correctly called, is also a very good plant and much 



WANING SUMMER 121 

more tolerant of drought than Neiomani, It grows 
about four feet tall and bears large blossoms of a curious 
dead pink, with a protruding golden-brown cone. This 
plant is rather hard to associate well and I feel that full 
justice is not given it here, though the fleecy bloom of 
Polygonum compactum and masses of blue-green Rue, 
which are its neighbours, are very good with it. It is 
rather a sombre-looking plant, but as desirable for its 
good habits and long period of bloom as for its numer- 
ous dull-pink flowers. 

The Sunflowers, Helianthus, are conspicuous mem- 
bers of both annual and perennial garden society at this 
season, but there are only a few which seem to me to 
have any great attraction, save in half-wild places. 
Their roots are most unrestrained and one must ever be 
weeding them out. To one sort, however, I can give the 
most enthusiastic praise — Helianthus multiflorus fl. pL, 
which grows about five feet high, is compact and con- 
trolled as to growth, has rich, dark foliage and many 
golden globes of bloom. It makes a good background 
for the heavy-headed white Phlox, and before its season 
closes the earlier hardy Asters colour effectively in its 
neighbourhood. There is a variety called Soleil d'Or 
which is also a splendid plant, with the same firm, com- 
pact habit and rich orange-yellow, double flowers. I 
do not care much for the single-flowered Sunflowers, 
though Miss Mellish is a good sort. However, she 
grows nine feet tall in our garden in her determination 



im MY GARDEN 

to see over the wall, and her surprising length is too 
scantily clothed for beauty. H. mollis is a pretty good 
Sunflower, of more moderate height, and bears large 
yellow flowers, which contrast pleasantly with the 
grayish foliage. 

The Heleniums or Sneezeweeds are, as a class, better 
than the Sunflowers. Indeed some of them are very 
beautiful with their flowers of Indian-red, russet, and 
gold. I know of few late flowers more effective than H. 
Striatum var. autumnale ruhrum, in its rich autumn 
colouring. Riverton Gem also has this rich colouring, 
and both are most effective in bold groups against a wall 
covered with Clematis panticulata and with masses of 
lavender and purple hardy Asters as neighbours. H. 
Riverton Beauty has rays of pure lemon-yellow with a 
purple-black disc. These all grow from four feet to five 
feet tall and form strong, bushy clumps of good up- 
standing habit, which require frequent division. There 
is a form called H. pumilum var. magnificumy which is 
much dwarfer, growing only about eighteen inches tall 
and bearing yellow flowers. H. Hoopesii starts to 
bloom late in June, but I think that in this month of 
rare and exquisite flowers we have no need of the 
coarser bloom of the Heleniums. The Heleniums asso- 
ciate well together and with most of the warm-toned 
flowers of the late summer and autumn, such as Mari- 
golds, Snapdragons, Gladiolus brenchleyensis, Tritomas, 
hardy Asters, and others. 



WANING SUMMER 123 

Pyrethrum uliginosum is one of the valuable com- 
posites of the later summer. It grows four to five feet 
tall and forms fine, erect clumps, bearing quantities of 
white daisy like flowers over a period of several weeks. 
It is fine as a background for pink and lavender Phlox. 
A charming group here is made up of this Pyrethrum, 
Phlox Elizabeth Campbell and Clematis davidiana. 
Early bloomers among the hardy Asters, such as A. 
Amellus var. Beaute Parfait, elegans, or Perry's Favour- 
ite, are also good in association with the Pyrethrum. It 
is unnecessary to devise associations for this good plant, 
for once in the garden a need for its sturdy growth, 
clean foliage, and dense masses of bloom makes itself 
felt in many quarters, and we are glad that it may be in- 
creased so generously by division. 

The Boltonias are also tall plants, which bear small 
daisylike flowers, some white and some pink. But, 
while its masses of bloom are effective, the plants grow 
rather too tall and leggy and are very difficult to stake. 
We put stout Dahlia stakes through the clumps, making 
a sort of web of cord from stake to stake, as when tied 
tightly to the stakes the effect is very stiff and ungrace- 
ful. There is a lower growing form called nana, which 
is a better plant for small gardens and narrow borders 
than the tall B. latisquama and aster oides. Groups of 
tall pink Phlox, gray-leaved Elymus glauca, and hazy 
Sea Lavender are good in front of the Boltonias, and they 
also lend themselves pleasantly to the companionship of 



124 MY GARDEN 

the early hardy Asters and Sunflowers. The spreading 
procUvities of this plant are a drawback, but it is easily 
gotten rid of and I have come to the point when I can 
callously pull it out and throw it away. 

A beautiful though rather coarse-growing composite 
of the late summer is Vernonia arkansana, tall and 
strong and gorgeously magenta as to its great flower 
heads. The everyday name of this plant is Iron weed, 
and a low-growing form is wild about here, creating a 
splendid glow over the damp, rocky meadows in August 
and September. In borders where there is room for 
it Polygonum compactum, with cream-coloured, fleecy 
flowers, is a good companion for the Ironweed, but the 
great Polygonum is such an indomitable spreader that 
it should be admitted with caution. Groups of Kansas 
Gay Feather {Liatris pychnostachya) are pretty rising 
from among bushes of Rue or Lavender Cotton. Their 
colour is certainly magenta, but these flowers are very 
graceful and effective, and if carefully companioned the 
colour is no drawback but very beautiful. The Gay 
Feathers like a dry soil and full sunshine; in rich, heavy 
soils they are short lived. The before-mentioned one is 
the better, but two others, L. spicata and scariosa, are 
similar and serve to prolong the blooming season. From 
a tuft of leaves these plants send up wandlike stems, 
about four feet in height, feathered with delicate foliage 
and terminating in a spike of bloom about ten inches 
long. It is one of those plants, like Lilies and Asphodels, 



WANING SUMMER . 125 

which need the foHage of other plants to make up for its 
too scanty leafage. 

Pink and white Mallows are conspicuous in the late 
summer and autumn garden. They are easily raised 
from seed, and in deep, rich soil will grow into fine spread- 
ing clumps. The old sweet, white Day Lily {Funkia 
subcordata), with its beautiful, spreading, pale-green 
foliage and gleaming lilylike blooms, should be found 
shining in every August garden. It has long been a 
favourite, and is one of the few flowers of this season 
which is rich in association and tradition. It is not so 
much used nowadays, save F. Sieboldiana, which is 
valued for the metallic gleam of its great leaves, and 
one sees F. lancifolia, in its variety ablo-marginata, or 
variegata, frequently edging the borders in cottage 
gardens. I am very fond of the Corfu Lily {F. sub- 
cordata) and like to coddle it a bit, giving it the richest, 
dampest soil at my command. In the Iris Bed, about 
the little, ever-overflowing pool, it reaches a great state 
of happy luxuriance, sending up countless spikes of sweet 
white flowers, seeming to belong to a simpler age than 
ours. The broad, lasting foliage of this plant and Sie- 
boldiana is of great value in the garden from the time 
of its rather late appearance in spring. In these days 
when we do not plant haphazard any plant which strikes 
our fancy in any spot which happens to be empty, 
but consider, not only the effect of its colour upon its 
neighbours, but the effect of its habit and form in the 



126 . MY GARDEN 

general arrangement, such well-rounded, orderly plants 
as the Funkias should be more used than they are. 

An attractive August group is composed of Artemisia 
lactiflora and Salvia azurea var. grandiflora, growing in 
deep, rich soil. The former is a plant of compara- 
tively recent introduction and is of real value. It bears 
heads of creamy blossoms and grows about four feet 
high. It is not so rampant a grower as most of its 
family, and I have lost several plants, I think, from win- 
ter killing. The Salvia is one of the prettiest orna- 
ments of the late summer, but is so difficult to maintain 
in an upright position that I am often tempted to do 
without its heavenly colour. Its wandlike stems are so 
slender as to be entirely unable to uphold themselves, 
and when tied to a stake the plant loses all grace. 
Young plants seem to stand up a little better, and as the 
Salvia is a free seeder there are usually plenty of these. 



CHAPTER EIGHT 

AUTUMN BEAUTY 

Gather ye roses while you may, 

Old time is still a-flying, 
And this same flower that smiles to-day 

To-morrow will be dying. 

— Herrick. 

THE first two weeks of September are very 
like August, both in bloom and in weather. 
Save for Michaelmas Daisies there are few 
flowers peculiar to this period, but if the season has not 
been too dry Phloxes will still be in fine colour, the 
second flowering of Delphiniums at its height, and all 
the host of Boltonias, Pyrethrums, Heleniums, Helian- 
thuses, and Rudbeckias making a rich display, while the 
annuals indulge in the maddest gayety as their season 
draws to its close. Groups of garnet-jewelled speciosum 
Lilies here and there in the borders lend a touch of 
elegance and distinction to the garden, and the cool 
nights and heavy dews have incited the Mallows to 
larger and finer results in their great silken blossoms. 
Nepeta, the invaluable, blooms again with delicate en- 
thusiasm. Indeed, it has never ceased to bloom en- 
tirely, but the cooler weather has started it off afresh, 

127 



128 MY GARDEN 

and where it fringed the top of the low, retaining walls in 
May, it now hangs in soft-coloured mats and festoons to 
the bottom. How delightful has been this Nepeta all 
through the season. Pale Daffodils and pink and 
mauve Tulips pierced in succession its pleasant mat of 
gray foliage; later China Roses and white Lilies were 
charming with it, and now the long arms of purple 
Asters are flung across it in assured harmony, and the 
Showy Stonecrop, Sedum spectabile, finds a happy 
setting for its strange pink blossoms. 

The hardy Aster or Michaelmas Daisy is, of course, 
the important flower of the month, and lovely and in- 
valuable it is, though I find it not in many a good gar- 
den. Because it grows in cloudlike masses by the dusty 
roadsides, mingling happily with the Golden Rod and 
Ferns, many do not look upon it seriously as a garden 
flower. And it is from these same wild forms that the 
fine garden sorts now to be had have been developed. 
No flower adds so much to the beauty and grace of the 
autumn garden as this, and I should like to root out all 
the Cannas and Salvias, so blatant in many a fine garden 
at this season, and fill their places with a tide of tender 
colour and graceful growth so generously furnished 
by the Michaelmas Daisies. All shades of lavender, 
mauve, and purple are to be had, besides pinkish tones, 
blush and pure white, in plants which are from one foot 
to six feet in height and which exliibit many delightful 
variations in form and habit. The blooming of the 




GROUPS OF GARNET -JEWELLED SPECIOSUIVI LILIES HERE AND THERE IN THE 
BORDERS LEND A TOUCH OF ELEGANCE AND DISTINCTION TO THE GARDEN" 



AUTUMN BEAUTY 129 

various sorts covers a long period, from August until 
November, but September is their festival month. 
They adapt themselves with supreme grace to any sort 
of gardening, and it would be difficult to know how to 
make an autumn garden beautiful without their aid. 
Borders made up almost entirely of these flowers are 
very lovely if one's garden is large enough to permit any 
part of it being given up to a single season. I saw many 
such borders splendidly carried out in England and in 
Scotland. The gray-foliage plants, Lyme Grass, Lav- 
ender Cotton, Artemisias, Nepeta, and Stachys lanata 
are largely used with the Michaelmas Daisies with per- 
haps a few buff-coloured Dahlias and Gladioli and 
the strange mauve-pink of Sedum spectabile. Clematis 
paniculata, grown on tall pea-brush and cut back se- 
verely every year to prevent its growing too rampant, 
is lovely grown at the back of such a border and allowed 
to trail its fleecy bloom and later its strange, smoky seed 
vessels about over the soft-coloured Asters. The gray- 
foliage plants would need to be planted in generous 
groups toward the front of the border, with dwarf 
Asters in between and the wandlike branches of the 
taller kinds brought forward here and there and tied to 
low pea-brush. Pea-brush, by the way, is by far the 
best staking to use for these flowers, as it allows them to 
show all their natural grace. We put the brush in when 
the plants are about two feet' tall, arranging the Aster 
branches so as to make the brush as inconspicuous as 



130 MY GARDEN 

possible and later clip off any ends which show after the 
plants have reached their full height. 

Many varieties of hardy Asters are offered in the 
catalogues and not all are good^ — some being very weedy 
in character and poor and dull in bloom. It is a good 
plan to see them in bloom in some nursery, if possible, 
before buying, but the following list, while not of the 
newest, will be found to contain only very good sorts. 

Forms of Aster Amellus are numerous and beautiful. 
They are among the earliest to bloom and range from 
one and one-half feet to three feet in height. The type 
has large purple flowers and grows two feet tall: 

Aster amellus var. Distinction — purple-blue — two feet. 

" " Perry's Favourite — reddish-pink — three feet. 

" Onward — deep violet — one and a half feet. 
A. acris — soft blue — lovely — three to four feet. August, Sep- 
tember. 
A. alpinus — bright purple — one foot. All summer. 

" var. alhus — white — one foot. All summer. 
A. ericoides — masses of small white flowers — tliree to four feet. 
September. 
" var. Enchantress of small blush flowers — three to four 

feet. September. 
" " Hon. Edith Gibbs of small lavender-gray flowers 

— three to four feet. September. 
" " Hon. Vicary Gibbs of small pinkish mauve — two 

and a half feet. September. 
A. grandiflorus — very large purple flowers — two feet. October and 

November. 
A. laevis var. arcturus — purple-blue — dark-stemmed — four feet. 

August. 
A. novae-angliae — ^New England Aster. Very fine. 



AUTUMN BEAUTY 



131 



A. novae-angliae var. Mrs. J. F. Raynor — purplish-crimson — five 
feet. September and October. 
" " Novelty — bright mauve — three to four feet. 

September and October. 
" " Ryecroft Purple — very conspicuous — five 

feet. September and October. 
" " Wm. Bowman — rosy-purple — four feet. Sep- 

tember and October. 
A. novie-helgii — (These are among the best.) 

var. Beauty of Colwall — tender lavender — double — 
four to five feet. September and October. 
" Climax — almost blue — four feet. September 

and October. 
" Elsie Perry — almost pink — three feet. Sep- 
tember and October. 
" F. W. Burbidge — rosy-lavender — four feet. 

September and October. 
"' Flossy — good white — three to four feet. Sep- 
tember and October. 
" White Queen — one and a half feet. September 

and October. 
" Robert Parker — lavender — four to five feet. 

September and October. 
" St. Brigid — blush — four to five feet. Septem- 
ber and October. 
" Top Sawyer — lavender — five to six feet. Sep- 
tember and October. 
" Margurite — lovely blue — five feet. September 
and October. 

Two other charming Asters of recent introduction are 

Perry's Pink^ — bright rose and blooming late — two to 

three feet, and St. Egwin^ — pinkish-mauve — three feet 

• — September. This plant forms finely rounded bushes 

covered with bloom.* 

*Other valuable sorts are Feltham Blue, Peters White, Mrs. Perry Improved, 
Bang George, Climax, Wm. Marshall, Beauty of Ronsdorf . 



132 MY GARDEN 

If more white is desired among the Asters Boltonias 
and Pyrethrums may be used and groups of Japanese 
Anemones. 

These plants are perfectly hardy, coming through the 
coldest winters unharmed. Any garden may grow them, 
for they require no special conditions and will thrive in 
any soil. About every third year the old clumps should 
be broken up and replanted as the increase is rapid 
and the plants become untidy and unmanageable. 

Groups of lavender and purple Asters in front of a 
wall covered with warmly coloured Virginia Creeper 
create an indescribably rich effect, and the flaming 
Tritoma allowed to pierce a fountainlike mass of pale- 
coloured small flowered sorts is very magnificent. 

After the middle of September, though no hint of the 
destroyer is in the air, a vague undercurrent of uneasi- 
ness makes itself felt in the garden. The flowers appear 
to redouble their efforts ; bloom follows bloom in anxious 
haste, and the borders look as if colour had been poured 
recklessly upon them "from a beeker of richest dyes." 
By some instinct the flowers know that the breath of the 
frost king is not far off and they desire to accomplish all 
their duty before it blows upon them. Perhaps there 
will be one more week, perhaps two, and it is within the 
realm of the possible that old November, driving his 
storm-steeds and followed by his Indian bride blowing 
warm breaths from her scarlet lips, will arrive and find 
the China Roses still blowing, Dahlias unharmed,, and 



AUTUMN BEAUTY 133 

Honeysuckle waving gracious censers over a sunlit gar- 
den. Last year hard frost held off so long that after the 
first light snowstorm I found the tearful faces of pink 
Verbenas shining through the snow and the heads of 
fresh Sweet Alyssum looking as if they had donned little 
nightcaps vastly becoming. 

But we have not arrived at this point yet and turn 
with gratitude to the groups of Japanese Anemones 
which have begun to open their lovely flowers. Among 
the strong colours and coarser growths of the autumn 
garden this exquisite, refined flower looks as if it belongs 
at the other end of the year and unfit to cope with frosts 
and winds, but it is quite strong and brave and will 
withstand several degrees of frost without flinching. 
According to soil and situation Anemone Japonica will 
vary much as to height. Well grown, the flower stems 
should rise three feet, or more, and break into a loose 
spray of lovely blossoms, white, or in shades of pink and 
rose. I have had the best results with these flowers in 
rich rather heavy soil and partial shade, and I find they 
take a year or two to become sufficiently at home to 
create much of an effect. They appear very late in 
spring so, in digging about the borders, care must be 
taken not to injure the fleshy roots. 

In Mr. H. H. Thomas's book, "The Ideal Garden," 
he says: "The Japanese Anemone likes a shady spot, it 
dislikes being disturbed, and thrives in quite ordinary 
soil. The rootstock is woody, and a large stock may be 



134 MY GARDEN 

worked up by cutting the rootstock into pieces about 
three inches long, and placing them in sandy soil in a 
cold frame in Autumn or Spring. The pieces of root are 
inserted horizontally, not perpendicularly, about two 
inches beneath the soil." There are many varieties of 
this charming flower but none can compare (in my 
opinion) to the old white, var. alba, and to Queen Charlotte, 
which has no peer in the floral world for silvery pink per- 
fection of colour, save in a La France Rose. The single 
sorts are much lovelier than those with an increase of 
petals which spoils the simplicity and hides the brush of 
gold in the centre that is one of the chief charms. 

No more charming association for Japanese Anemones 
in the white and pale pink varieties could be found than 
bushes of metallic-leaved Rue, and others of the gray- 
leaved brotherhood are nearly as good. The "bleak 
blue" of Monkshood is fine with white Anemones, and 
both AconitumWilsoni and the XsiiQv Aconitum autumnale 
may be used. Mr. Thomas speaks of the charm of 
Lobelia cardinalis with white Anemones, but regrets the 
lack of hardiness of the Lobelia, which must be taken up 
and stored in the winter. This we do not understand, for 
here, where the mercury falls many degrees below zero 
every winter, the Cardinal Flower is the glory of our wet 
meadows and stream margins, and has no covering save 
that which nature provides. 

Chrysanthemum nipponicum is a Japanese plant 
which all summer long has been valuable for its strong, 



AUTUMN BEAUTY 135 

rounded bushes and thick, dark foUage. It grows about 
two and one-half feet high, and while its large, white, 
daisylike flowers have the slightly chilled look common 
to many white flowers at this season, it is still well 
worth having. 

This is a busy time in the garden, for as October 
comes in one may, with impunity, begin clearing up a 
little, making over such beds and borders as require it, 
dividing the Phloxes and other hardy things which are 
outgrowing their strength, and rearranging one's colour 
schemes. It is well to do as much of this sort of thing as 
possible in the autumn while defects are still fresh in 
one's mind, for in the all-beautifying light of spring one 
is apt to feel that perfection is already an accomplished 
fact in one's garden. Also there is always more work to 
be done in spring than one counts upon, and anything 
accomplished now may provide us with a breathing 
space at that season when we should be so grateful for 
time to just sit and drink in the loveliness stealing into 
the world around us. 

Autumn planting of perennials is advised by many 
who are in a position to know, and I have heard nursery- 
men say that their customers get more careful attention 
and stronger plants at this season; but certainly any 
plants whose absolute hardiness is questioned are best 
set out in spring, so that the strain of winter will not 
come upon them before they are strongly established. 
It is now that one's home nursery comes into important 



136 MY GARDEN 

requisition, for one may lift the plants with good balls of 
earth, so that the roots are almost undisturbed, and set 
them down in their new homes quite unbeknownst to 
themselves. If the weather has been dry the earth 
about the plants should be well soaked, so that it will 
adhere to the roots when lifted. 

Snowdrops, Scillas, Chionodoxas, Crocuses, Tulips, 
Daffodils, Iris reticulata, English Iris, Crown Imperials, 
and the lesser Fritillaries, and all sorts of Lilies, save 
candidum, may now be tucked away for the glorification 
of the coming year. Hardy Roses may be set out, and 
many shrubs and trees and vines; altogether, there is 
plenty of work to do, and it is well there is, else one might 
grow low-spirited in this season of farewells and be cross- 
ing the flowerless bridge of winter before one has quite 
come to it. 

The autumn Crocuses come every year as a surprise. 
Though I know they are there I never seem to quite ex- 
pect a Crocus at this season, and when, one fine day in 
late September, I come suddenly upon a group of the 
rosy-lilac bubbles which mean C. zonatus, poised lightly 
above a gray blanket of Cerastium, it is always some- 
thing of a shock. Zonatus is a lovely, jewel-like thing, 
but said not to be quite hardy, so the Cerastium coverlid 
is much to its mind, and besides protects its delicate 
flowers from spattering mud. C. speciosus is an em- 
peror among Crocuses; its large blue-purple bowl is 
carried on a long stem and within it burns its flame- 



AUTUMN BEAUTY 137 

capped Stigmata like a candle, or perhaps the torch of 
its hardy little spirit. Speciosus blooms late. It is 
usually well into October before I come upon them, 
standing gravely beneath the Lilac bushes, or piercing 
the gray-leaved creepers at the front of the Michaelmas 
Daisy border. Surely there is much interest and a 
touch of mystery attached to these frail flowers standing 
so carelessly at the gate of winter. Their nakedness — 
for the leaves are borne in spring and wither long before 
the vaselike flower comes — adds to the feeling that they 
are "somehow different," but nevertheless one is glad to 
have them — the more the better. We have here only 
the two kinds, but there are others which would be 
worth trying: C. nudiflorus, pulchellus, iridifiorus, can- 
cellatiis, and sativus are a few. They may be planted in 
late summer and early autumn and, like their brothers 
at the other end of the year, enjoy a light, well-drained 
soil, free from clay and manure. A cushion and cover- 
ing of sand is advisable, and a ground cover of some 
small creeper, such as Gypsophila repens, Veronica pros- 
trata, or Cerastium, is a protection to their frail beauty. 
The first week of October sees many changes upon 
the fair face of the garden, and by the middle of the 
winter the gay tints are lowered to halftones and there is 
little colour, save here and there a sparkle where an 
indomitable California Poppy still blooms, or a lumi- 
nous spike of Larkspur reaches skyward, less opulently 
clothed, less tall, but never before so heavenly blue. It 



138 MY GARDEK 

is an endearing quality, this of the Delphiniums, to come 
back at the very end of the season that we may carry 
the memory of their perfect blue through the lowering 
days to come. Many times, after very low temperature 
in late November, I have gathered a few of these azure 
wands, still frailer and more delicately clothed, but 
dearer far than the great splendid flower stalks of mid- 
summer. Dear, too, are the little nosegays of China 
Roses and Mignonette one may gather at this season, 
the sprays of Honeysuckle or the wide-eyed purple 
Pansies. 

There is not now that exuberant plenty, with the re- 
sulting confusion, which belongs to mid-summer, and 
what flowers there are stand out in the simple autumn 
sunlight, that seems to envelop the world in a sort of 
luminous sheen, with a special meaning and significance. 
It is now that we are especially grateful to the gray and 
metallic-leaved plants, for their foliage is in nowise im- 
paired by the early frosts, and the soft-hued mounds and 
bushes and trails are particularly lovely and helpful in 
creating a few more charming pictures for us before 
winter claims our garden. Here a late pink hardy 
Aster trails a branch across the Rue bushes — there a few 
loose white rugosa Roses gleam above some hoary 
Southernwood bushes, and a flame-coloured Nasturtium 
has burst into a riot of bloom below the rounds of 
Lavender Cotton. In another part of the garden self- 
sown pink Snapdragons in the retaining wall are lovely 



AUT,UMN BEAUTY 139 

with the festooning Nepeta, and Httle mists of Gyp- 
sophila muralis gleam at the wall foot. 

But it is to the "bitter-sweet Chrysanthemum" that 
we turn in these last days of the garden's life with a feel- 
ing of grateful love. Even the esthetic Anemone ja- 
ponica must give way before the affection we feel for this 
hardy child, born of the sun and frost. Not the splen- 
did creatures one sees upon the show bench, or in the 
florist's windows, but those small, spirited fellows, in 
brown and old gold, russet, garnet, old pink, and smoky 
rose, which linger to the very end in the garden, the 
biting cold of November nights seeming merely to tone 
them up and impart a defiant quality to the audacious 
little tufts of colour. Often it is difficult to find these 
really old-fashioned hardy Chrysanthemums in the 
nurseries, but frequently, in driving, or walking about 
the country in the autumn, we come upon them in the 
gardens of village or country people. Some of the best I 
have were found in this way, and the owners are 
glad to give a root or two which will quickly spread into 
a fine clump. I cannot give a list of named sorts, for 
my own all came as gifts. They love a warm, sunny sit- 
uation and a rich, deep soil, and if once or twice during 
the summer a little well-rotted manure is dug about the 
roots the response will be whole hearted and generous. 
Every year, in spring, the plants are best divided and 
the soil enriched before they are replanted. 



CHAPTER NINE 

BORDER ROSES AND CLIMBERS 

"Whatso'er of beauty 
Yearns and yet reposes, 
Blush and bosom and sweet breath, 
Took a shape in Roses." 

— Leigh Hunt. 

ROSE growing is of the fine arts; an art to which 
many societies owe their being; to which many 
men devote their Uves; about which books are 
written and poets sing. So great a subject cannot be 
covered in one short chapter of a book on general gar- 
dening. 

Dean Hole, in his deeply appreciative, almost rever- 
ential, "Book About Roses," starts his discourse with 
these words: "He who would have beautiful Roses in 
his garden, must have beautiful Roses in his heart. He 
must love them well and always. To win, he must woo, 
as Jacob wooed Laban's daughter, though drought and 
frost consume. He must have not only the glowing ad- 
miration, the enthusiasm, and the passion, but the 
tenderness, the thoughtfulness, the reverence, the 
watchfulness of love . . . the cavalier of the Rose 
has semper fidelis upon his crest and shield." And the 

140 



BORDER ROSES AND CLIMBERS 141 

Rose is a jealous mistress, for not only will she have 
the whole attention of her lover in the days of fulness 
and beauty, but when her blooms are fled must she be 
shielded from annoyance, fed and bathed, and in the 
winter carefully protected. She will share her bed with 
none, and indeed she likes well a whole garden to her- 
self; she must not be exposed to rough winds, she must 
be sheltered, but not shaded, and "no bough may darken, 
no drip may saturate, no roots may rob the Rose." 
And who that is able to give will grudge her all she de- 
sires, for a Rose garden scrupulously cared for is a 
joy of joys, and success with Roses more flattering 
than with any other flower. But is there a sorrier 
sight than a neglected Rose.^^ She is no hand at mak- 
ing the best of things: she must have all, or nothing; 
and so worthy is she of the best that I am always 
sorry to see Roses planted where the best may not be 
theirs. 

All this may seem to relegate Roses to the gardens of 
those with a staff of gardeners and a special Rose garden, 
but it does not. Any enthusiast, high or low, may have 
the Rose at her loveliest, if he take Dean Hole's words 
as his creed, and studies and provides for the needs of 
this fair flower; may have, I mean, those beautiful, long- 
stemmed Roses, known as Teas, Hybrid Teas, and Hy- 
brid Perpetuals, with whose photographs the catalogues 
overflow, and about whose culture so many books have ^ 
been written that one might form a library of them 



142 MY GARDEN 

alone. But for us, whose love and watchfulness must 
cover so many other flowers and whose space is limited, 
there are Roses, too, Roses that will give of their sweet- 
est, tucked in among the perennials, growing among the 
shrubs, clambering over walls and trellises, or standing 
alone in long-limbed, bountiful beauty beside the garden 
path, and to such as these this chapter is lovingly 
dedicated. 

Many of these are Roses of yesterday, old-fashioned, 
sweet-breathed, and simple, which have modestly given 
way before the great tide of modern beauties, retiring 
to out-of-the-way nooks in old gardens. Many are of 
more recent introduction, but have the unostentatious 
charm of those others; some are free, wild creatures 
brought to endure garden life with equanimity but keep- 
ing the native grace of their former state; and then there 
are the splendid host of climbers, born of the Polyantha, 
Wichuraiana and other types, which increase in number 
and in beauty with every year of work done by the 
hybridizers. 

I do not mean to imply that these friendly Roses will 
thrive luxuriantly with no comforts in shallow, poor 
soil, or shade; nor that they are never attacked by in- 
sect or disease, nor that they will smile year after year 
without attention. No desirable plant would ! But only 
that their requirements in all these matters are much 
less fixed than those of their high-born sisters, that they 
are adaptable and not exclusive. For every kindness 




MANY OF THESE ARE ROSES OF YESTERDAY, OLD-FASHIONED, SWEET- 
BREATHED AND SIMPLE, WHICH HAVE MODESTLY GIVEN WAY BEFORE THE 
GREAT TIDE OF MODERN BEAUTIES, RETIRING TO OUT-OF-THE-WAY NOOKS 
IN OLD gardens" 



BOKDER ROSES AND CLIMBERS 143 

done them they thankfully repay us in greater gifts of 
bloom and sweetness. 

First in my affections come the old-fashioned Roses: 

"For the Moss Rose and the Musk Rose, 
Maiden's Blush and royal Dusk Rose" 

possess a most enduring charm. 

Many people who come into my garden have never 
seen the old-fashioned Roses at all, so neglected are they 
nowadays, but they never fail to win admiration for 
their fine perfume and beguiling simplicity. 

The old Cabbage or Provence Rose, Rosa centifolia, is 
perhaps the most beautiful, the most fragrant, and the 
most neglected of these erstwhile favourites. I re- 
member that there were huge, erect bushes of both the 
bright pink and the rarer white Provence Rose in the 
garden where I was a little girl. The flowers are large 
and full-petalled, borne on long, strong stems, and 
breathe an ineffable fragrance with which many a 
modern beauty may well crave to augment her 
charms. The foliage is a fine dark green and the colour 
of the flowers a splendid and lavish pink. The white 
Provence is rare and lovely, having the same full- 
petalled form as the pink, but less vigorous in habit and 
in constitution. The Provence Rose is the oldest Rose 
in cultivation, and its long past is an honourable one, for 
it has ministered, not only to the human need for 
beauty for hundreds of years, but was ever in demand 
for medicinal purposes, for perfumes, and for conserves. 



144 MY GARDEN 

The original Moss Rose was a "sport" or child of the 
Provence. It seems to me that there is nothing lovelier 
in the whole flower kingdom than a spray of Moss Rose 
buds, yet how seldom do we see them nowadays ! The 
Moss Roses here are grown mainly in the Herb garden, 
where the erect bushes rise from a tangle of soft-toned 
herbs and mingle their delicate perfume with the pun- 
gent breath of their neighbours. 

It is difiicult to improve upon the Old Pink Moss for 
beauty, but just as fine are the other pink sorts: Salet, 
Crested Moss, Zenobia, and Comtesse de Murinais. 
And the white sorts, with shapely buds gleaming from 
their bright-green garment, seem loveliest of all. These 
are Wliite Bath, Blanche Moreau, and Perpetual Moss, 
which blooms in bewitching clusters and is well mossed. 
There are also crimson sorts, but these are not so lovely. 
The best is Crimson Globe. 

Moss Roses have one drawback, their liability to mil- 
dew, but with generous treatment and a very little 
trouble they may be protected from this affliction. 
They should be planted absolutely free from shade and 
never against a wall, that all the winds of heaven may 
sweep around them, and let their roots be set in deep, 
well-drained, rich soil. In spring, as soon as the leaves 
appear, dust them with powdered sulphur and repeat 
several times during the summer, especially in "spells'* 
of damp, sunless weather. 

The Damask Rose, with its large, flat, shining crimson 



BORDER ROSES AND CLIMBERS 145 

petals and central brush of gold, is worthy a place in 
every garden. We have a hedge of it in the Herb gar- 
den because it was so esteemed of old in the manufacture 
of many pleasant things. The single blossoms yield a 
rare perfume, and while the bush is not so well set up and 
sturdy as the Provence it is very fine and glowing in 
its June beneficence. This Rose came from Syria to 
Europe in the train of the Crusaders. Of late years 
some beautiful hybrid Damask Roses have been in- 
troduced, but they are not yet offered by our nursery- 
men, save the fair Mad. Hardy, which has the Provence 
Rose for its other parent and resembles it more nearly. 
The quaint York and Lancaster Rose, with its im- 
partial red and white stripes, is a Damask and grows 
into great bushes bearing freely its fragrant parti- 
coloured flowers ; Rosa gallica, the Apothecaries Rose, in 
its striped forms, is often confused with the York and 
Lancaster. 

In the front yard of this place, when we came here to 
live, we found thickets of Maiden's Blush Roses, the Rose 
of Mrs. Browning's poem, and all about the neighbour- 
hood in the simple dooryards, pressing their flushed 
faces through the faded palings, are her sisters. This is 
a variety of Rosa alba, the White Rose of old gardens, 
which dates back to the sixteenth century, and which 
has never lost its popularity in rural neighbourhoods. 
Both aphis and mildew attack this Rose. We powder 
the bushes well with hellebore twice before the leaves 



146 MY GARDEN 

are out and once after, and watch carefully for signs of 
mildew, so that sulphur may be given before it gets a 
fair start. 

No discourse upon old-fashioned Roses would be com- 
plete without mention of the Chinas, those Roses which 
in English gardens grow in such sweet confusion among 
the Lavender bushes. In this climate they are neither 
so vigorous nor so hardy, but we have carried a bed of 
China Roses safely through the past three winters with 
only a blanket of stable litter. They are the first to 
bloom in late May, and continue joyously until the heat 
of mid-summer somewhat checks their ardour, but begin 
again with the dew-bathed nights of late August, and 
for the past two years we have had a bowl of China 
Roses for the dinner table on Thanksgiving Day. 

Many lovely varieties have been raised from the 
original two brought from China many years ago — the 
Old Blush Monthly and the Crimson China — and none 
is more beautiful than those displaying esthetic blend- 
ings of pink and gold, rose and copper. Of these are 
Laurette Messimy, Madame Eugene Resal, Comtesse 
du Cayla, and Arethusa. Mrs. Bosanquet is tender 
blush colour, Cramoisie Superieur a fine crimson and 
prolific bloomer, Ducher beautiful pure white, and Her- 
mosa a fuU-petalled pink. While Lavender in our cli- 
mate does not grow with great vigour, we may get al- 
most as charming an effect by using Nepeta Mussini 
with the China Roses, in beds or long narrow borders. 



BORDER ROSES AND CLIMBERS 147 

The favourite white-flowered Madame Plantier, 
which is classed as a hybrid China, is a splendid Rose, 
forming in time huge bushes, each wandlike branch 
wreathed with snowy, double blossoms in June. I 
know a beautiful garden where great bushes of this and 
the shining Persian Yellow Brier alternate along a long 
walk and create a bewildering pageant of beauty in the 
season of their blooming. 

The Briers. These are an enchanting race. Long- 
limbed and graceful, bearing for the most part single blos- 
soms in lovely colours, and boasting a delicious fragrance, 
both of flower and leaf. They may be trained against 
pillars and trellises, used to form hedges, or allowed to 
grow, as I love them best, into great free bushes. 

The Sweet-brier, or Eglantine, is too well known to 
need special description: its long branches starred with 
single pink flowers, its fragrant, "rain-scented" leafage, 
and its gay haws are familiar to most of us. And one 
would not be without a bush or two for old sakes' sake, 
though the splendid race created by Lord Penzance, and 
named for him, of which the simple Eglantine is a 
parent, are in a fair way to taking its place in most 
gardens. They have lost nothing of the sweetness of 
foliage and have gained truly glorious colours — ^peach, 
blush, copper, ecru, cherry, and dazzling scarlet. These 
roses are as hardy as iron and very quick growing if good 
soil is provided for them, and they make splendid bushes 
in a short time. The kinds we have here are Brenda, a 



148 MY GARDEN 

delectable peach colour, with a brush of golden sta- 
mens; Lord Penzance, soft buff; Lady Penzance, 
burnished copper; Meg Merriles, beautiful strong 
crimson; Green Mantle, full pink with an inner circle 
of white; Flora M'lvor, pure white, slightly flushed; 
Ann of Gierstein, dark crimson; Lucy Ash ton, white with 
pink edges; Refulgence, bright scarlet, semi-double. 

The Hybrid Scotch Brier Stanwell's Perpetual has 
small leaves, very thorny branches, and clouds of small, 
double, blush-coloured Roses. A lovely Rose this, to 
grow in the June borders with Persian Lilacs, Flag 
Irises, and tall white Lupines. As it is somewhat strag- 
gling in growth it is well to plant several together, thus 
securing a well-rounded bush. 

Of all the Brier Roses, the Austrians claim my warm- 
est admiration. The Austrian Copper is a true Sweet 
Brier, with nicely scented leafage, and bears its wonder- 
ful burnished blossoms, vermilion on the under side and 
yellow on the upper surface, in lavish profusion. It is 
the most brilliantly striking Rose of my acquaintance. 
It is sometimes spoken of as capricious, and I believe it is 
best procured on its own roots, but here in the walled 
garden, in good soil and a sunny position, it has so far 
been most flatteringly at home. The Austrian Yellow 
is also fine, but not so striking. 

Besides the Maiden's Blush Roses we found also in 
the dooryard of this old house several fine bushes of 
Harisoni, that simple, loose-petalled, soft yellow Rose 



BORDER ROSES AND CLIMBERS 149 

so lavish in its "toll to passing June," and so eloquent 
of old gardens and the days when simple things were the 
best beloved. The foliage has a faint sweet-brier fra- 
grance, and the long, fiercely armed branches are set from 
end to end with semi-double Roses. Mrs. Earl says 
it was called the "Yellow Wreath Rose" in country 
neighbourhoods, which seems more apt than many 
plant names. The bush of Harisoni is rather straggly 
in habit, and I have found that planting three together, 
as with Stanwell's Perpetual, secures a better form. 

The Persian Yellow Rose is more conspicuous, more 
double, and more golden than Harisoni, but has the same 
wreathlike growth, the long branches being literally 
weighted to the ground with their yellow burden. The 
term " Austrian," as applied to these Roses, is misleading, 
as they are Oriental in origin. Harisoni was raised in 
this country in the early part of the nineteenth century. 
Its parents are said to be the Austrian Yellow and a 
Scotch Brier. These yellow briers are lovely planted 
in wide borders with white and purple Persian Lilacs, 
lavender and white and buff Flag Irises, pink and white 
and blue Lupines, and bushes of hoary Southernwood 
and Rue, with Nepeta and Stachys lanata along the front. 

1 Rosa Rugosa. Few gardens are without one or more 
representatives of the fine Rugosa class. While this 
good and reliable Rose was introduced to the gardening 



150 MY GARDEN 

world as long ago as 1784, it was not until about thirty 
years ago that the hybridists took in hand the single 
white and crimson sorts first introduced from Japan, and 
with their magic produced the beautiful double and 
semi-double sorts which gladden the gardens of to-day. 
These Roses are so hardy, so free from insect pests or 
disease, so unexacting in their demands, that perhaps 
we do not thank them enough for the esthetic value of 
the great loosely made blossoms, the unusual character 
of their fragrance, the polished, dark-green foliage, or 
their gift to winter, the plump scarlet haws. 

I am particularly fond of Blanc Double de Coubert, 
which bears, I think, the whitest flowers in the world. 
It blooms early and all summer, and is often the last 
Rose in the garden in autumn. Madame Georges 
Bruant is another splendid paper-white sort of fine 
form. Nova Zembla is white, double, and very sweet- 
scented and is particularly fine in the bud. Conrad F. 
Meyer is a lovely silvery pink Rose, long and perfect in 
the bud, and fragrant. It is taU growing and makes a 
good pillar Rose. A deep wine-red sort is Souvenir de 
Pierre Leperdrieux, which lacks the magenta hint so 
often present in the red Roses of this type. 

Rugosa Roses make fine hedges and may be planted 
close together and clipped, but for this purpose the 
common alba and rubra are most suitable. The Hybrid 



BORDER ROSES AND CLIMBERS 151 

sorts maybe grown among shrubs as free-growing bushes 
or trained against a wall or low trellis. 

Wild Roses. Some of these make fine subjects for 
the shrubbery, or for thickets along drives, or walks, or 
for covering unsightly banks. Most of them are un- 
exacting in the matter of soil and situation, and thrive 
with little attention. One of the prettiest is the Scotch 
or Burnet Rose {Rosa spinosissiina) , a shrub not more 
than four or five feet high, with long, recurving, fiercely 
thorny branches set with tender, creamy-white flowers. 
Much resembling it, but a step nearer perfection, is its 
relative or variety, R. altaica, of Central Asia, a truly 
lovely thing; and there is R. hispida, another brier- 
like relative with lemon-white blossoms. 

R. lucida grows into nice thickets, and its brown 
branches and gay fruit are welcome in the winter world. 
In summer it decks itself in fine, luxuriant foliage and 
gleaming pink blossoms. R. blanda makes a good-sized 
bush, flowering in clusters of pink flowers, and is well 
adapted for covering dry banks. 

Besides these there are R. arvensis, single pink 
flowers and a widely rambling habit; R. setigera, our 
long-branched Prairie Rose, late blooming and with 
magenta tendencies; R. ruhrifolia, with rambling stems 
covered with a purplish bloom, and leaves tinted to 
match the little reddish flowers; and the Dog Rose {R. 
canina), with its pretty, scentless blooms and long, 
straggling branches. 



152 MY GARDEN 

Climbers. We now come to the glorious array of 
Climbing Roses. Each year sees new beauties pre- 
sented for our approval, and the difficulty is to find space 
wherein to grow all that we would like. 

The wonder is that with all the long-limbed loveliness 
at our disposal there are so many walls, porches, fences, 
and arbours but scantily clothed, if clothed at all, and 
considering the enormous variety of Climbing Roses to 
be had how little originality and fitness is shown in the 
selections made. The poor overworked Crimson Ram- 
bler is the favourite, and is forced to blaze its unadapt- 
able colour upon red brick walls, or pumpkin- coloured 
houses, without a chance to show its possibilities. In 
the right place it is a good Rose, save for its propensity to 
mildew, and it should be honoured as the first of a race 
which gives us now many more desirable sorts. The 
Crimson Rambler is a multiflora, and to this type and to 
the Wichuraianas we owe the major part of our Climb- 
ing Roses, though we have also Hybrid Teas, Hybrid 
Perpetuals, Teas, Ayrshires, Noisettes, Chinas, and 
Prairie Roses. 

Many of the recent introductions and some of the 
very old ones are single or semi-double, and we are 
coming to realize and appreciate the esthetic value of 
these simple shining flowers. For many years multi- 
plication of petals, the more the better, was the end 
aimed at by the Rose conjurers, and in a little book 
published in Philadelphia, in 1830, by Robert Buist, 



BORDER ROSES AND CLIMBERS 153 

florist, I note the following: "Although there may be 
great beauty in simplicity, yet to the admirers of the 
Rose, singleness is a great objection." 

The best results will be secured from Climbing Roses 
by digging a hole at least two feet deep and the same 
square and filling it in with a mixture of good earth and 
well-rotted cow manure. All Roses are better in a soil 
on the side of heaviness, so that if the soil where they 
are to be planted is light and sandy it is best not put 
back in the hole at all. The plant should be set in the 
hole with the roots well spread out and the soil pressed 
firmly about them, otherwise high winds will loosen its 
hold and damage our prospects of a fine display. A 
handful of bone meal scratched in on the top when the 
hole is filled up gives the young Rose a good start. The 
plant should be well pruned, tops and roots, before 
planting, and kept from drying out entirely for a few 
weeks. They may be set out early in the spring 
or in the fall. For very hardy sorts fall planting 
is perhaps the most satisfactory, but for Teas, Hybrid 
Teas, and Noisettes spring planting is safer. Farm- 
yard manure is the best possible fertilizer for Roses. 
In the spring we turn back the soil and scratch in a 
little well-rotted stuff about the roots, and after the 
flowering period is past they receive a reward of merit 
in the form of a little wood ashes, or a handful of 
bone meal. The Roses here given require no winter 
covering, save in the case of the few noted, but a 



154 MY GARDEN 

blanket of stable litter is a comfort and encouragement 
to all. 

The following is a list of thirty varieties which grow in 
my own garden and which are both beautiful and re- 
liable. For those wanting not so many I have marked 
the twelve best with an asterisk (*). The abbrevia- 
tions are Poly. = Polyantha or properly Multiflora. 
Wich. = Wichuraiana. H. T. = Hybrid Tea. T. =Tea. 
H. P.=Hybrid Perpetual. H. C.=Hybrid China. 
Ayr. = Ayrshire. 

Silver Moon* (Wich.). Rich foliage, large deep cream semi-double 
flowers, long and beautiful in the bud. Very vigorous. 

Frangois Guillot (Wich.). Deep cream flat double flowers, yellow 
in bud. 

Hiawatha* (Wich.). Brilliant, scarlet-pink, white eye, large clus- 
ters, single. 

Alberic Barbier* (Wich.). Creamy -white, buds yellow, semi- 
double. Very vigorous. 

La Fiamma* (Wich.). Brilliant flame-rose, single. Very vigor- 
ous. 

Waltham Rambler (Poly.). Soft pink, large clusters, single. 
Lovely. 

Dorothy Perkins* (Wich.). Clusters of bright pink, very double 
flowers, late. Very vigorous, 

Newport Fairy* (Wich.). Large clusters of shell-like pale pink 
flowers. Yellow at base. Exquisite. Vigorous. 

Mrs. F. W. Flight* (Poly.). Large clusters of soft pink flowers, 
white eye. 

Dr. Van Fleet* (Wich.). Large double shrimp pink, fine in bud, 
exquisite. 

Tausendshon (Poly.). Pink and white. Large trusses. Semi- 
single. 

Eliza Robichon (Wich.). Pink and buff, semi-double. 



BORDER ROSES AND CLIMBERS 155 

Empress of China* ( — ). Like clusters of apple blossoms. 
Vigorous. 

Bennett's Seedling (Ayr.). Many pure-white double blossoms. 
Vigorous. 

Lyon Rambler (Poly.). Brilliant cerise. Huge trusses. Vigorous. 

Trier* (Poly.). Creamy- white, yellow centre. Semi-double, con- 
stant bloomer. Vigorous. 

Blush Rambler (Poly.). Pale pink, very sweet. 

American Pillar* (Poly.). Striking cerise-pink, white eye. Fine 
single. 

PauVs Carmine Pillar* (H. T.). Gorgeous single blooms. 

Felicite Perpetue (x\yr.). Charming creamy-white. 

Coquina (Wich.). Lovely pink, single. Thick, fine foliage. 

Climbing Kaiserin Augusta Victoria (H. T.). White double. 

Climbing Frau Karl Druschki (H. P.). Huge double white 
flowers. 

Edmond Proust (Wich.). Coppery-red. Fine. Vigorous. 

Pink Roamer (Wich.). Large silvery pink and white single. 

Goldfinch (Poly.). Pale yellow, changing to white, semi-double. 

Dundee Rambler (Ayr.). White, pink edges. Very vigorous. 

The Garland (Ayr.), Warm white and free flowering. 

Wm. C. Egan (Poly.). Bright pink, very double. 

Climbing Capt. Christy (H. T.). Lovely shade of pink. 

Such lovely tender Roses as Reine Marie Henriette, 
William Allen Richardson, and Gloire de Dijon I am 
able to enjoy in our severe climate by laying them on the 
ground in winter and covering them with straw and a 
warm blanket of manure over the roots. 

In severe winters the Ayrshires are sometimes winter- 
pruned, but the summer growth is so vigorous that it is 
of small moment. 

Pruning. The pruning of Roses is a matter on 
which doctors do not always agree, but the following 



156 MY GARDEN 

methods have proved satisfactory to my Roses and have 
been gleaned from the most reliable sources. Every 
gardener should study his Roses and know well their 
ways before he attempts to prune, save in the lightest 
manner. No exact general directions may be given, 
but a safe rule is to prune vigorous Roses lightly and 
weak-growing Roses hard, also to remove all dead wood, 
or broken twigs, and to cut away all faded blossoms, re- 
moving at the same time a bit of stem and a leaf or two. 
We prune first to force sap into the new shoots, thus in- 
suring a good crop of flowers, and second to maintain 
a shapely bush. With this latter point in view, it is 
well to prune to a dormant bud pointing outward, so 
that the new shoots will not point toward the centre of 
the bush, making a tangled, unmanageable growth. 

Pruning is best done in early March before the sap 
begins to run. 

Provence and Moss Roses. Cut out dead wood, thin 
out old heavy shoots, and cut back all remaining 
shoots halfway. 

Damask and Gallica. Thin out weak, ineffectual 
shoots and cut the strong ones back to about one 
foot. 

Rosa Alba (Maiden's Blush). Should be grown as 
tall, spreading bushes. Remove some of the weak 
shoots and occasionally cut out old, crowded wood. 
Leave the main branches long, shortening only a 
little. 



BORDER ROSES AND CLIMBERS 157 

Chinas. Should be cut back sharply to about 
eighteen inches from the ground. 

Hybrid China {Mad. Plantier). Best grown as free 
bushes leaving the shoots six feet long, shortening only 
the laterals and side branches, and cutting out old wood 
occasionally. 

Sweet Briers. Require little pruning, but all old and 
tough wood should be cut to the ground to make room 
for young growth; weak shoots removed. No harm is 
done in shortening the very long shoots if they are in the 
way. 

Scotch Briers. No pruning save the removal of dead 
wood. 

Austrian Briers. No pruning save the removal of 
dead wood. 

Rugosas. No pruning save the removal of dead wood 
and the occasional cutting back, almost to the ground, 
of very old wood. 

Wild Roses. No pruning save the removal of dead 
wood. 

Climbers. I quote Miss Jekyll's, "Roses for English 
Gardens": 

"In the spring these need very little attention beyond 
securing the best shoots in the positions they are re- 
quired to occupy, and to shorten back, or remove al- 
together, any other shoots which may not be required at 
all. Within July, however, all the strong-growing 



158 MY GARDEN 

Roses should be examined, and every year some of the 
shoots which have flowered be entirely removed and the 
best of the strong-growing young growths encouraged 
to take their place, cutting out altogether those not 
needed." 



CHAPTER TEN 



BORDER IRISES 



"I'll have an Iris that shall find thee out." 

— Shakespeare. 

WHEN one sees the rainbow banners of the Iris 
unfurling along the borders in the sunshine 
it seems highly probable that the mantle of 
their namesake has fallen upon them, and that they are 
indeed messengers of the gods, and it seems well to in- 
cline one's ear and open wide one's eyes lest we miss 
some smallest shade of meaning in this rarely illumi- 
nated message brought to us by these brave couriers 
across the wintry wastes. 

The period covered by the blossoming of the Iris is 
full of enjoyment to me. Since the days when all my 
knowledge of this great and varied family was vested 
in the common purple Iris of old gardens and the gay 
Flag-flowers, which lie in June upon our moist meadows, 
"like the silent shadow of a cloud," their spell has been 
upon me, and it was a discovery of much delight that 
these two were but lowly members of a great company 
that would gladly bloom in my garden; would fill 
it from April through July with a lovely, unexacting 
throng demanding little attention and no special con- 

159 



160 MY GARDEN 

ditions, and from whose ranks I might draw subjects for 
every sort of situation. 

I do not speak of the rare and difficult species and 
varieties belonging to the Oncocyclus, Juno, and Regalia 
groups, for these unfold their flowers only for those able 
and willing to provide them with very special condi- 
tions, but of the many fine Irises that may be found 
under the heads, Pogoniris and Apogon, two at least of 
the Evansias and some of the bulbous species, which will 
bloom cheerfully under ordinary conditions in the open 
garden. 

There are so many species in this great genus, and the 
intermarriages have been so numerous and so confusing, 
that classification has become difficult; yet very little 
of this genealogy is necessary to us who simply wish to 
realize in our gardens the highest decorative possibili- 
ties of this splendid flower. 

For the purposes of the open garden the genus Iris 
may be divided into four sections : Pogoniris or Bearded, 
Apogon or Beardless, Evansia or Crested, and Bulbous. 
The "beard" is a "collection of closely set hairs" on the 
"falls" or drooping petals of the Iris flower. Irises 
without this decoration are called beardless. The 
"crest" is an "elevated line or ridges on the segment of 
an Iris." 

The bearded section contains the best known and 
most easily grown of the Irises. They possess a thick, 
fleshy rootstock, creeping along the surface of the earth. 







Will Stf^rn 



WHEN ONE SEES THE RAINBOW BANNERS OF THE IRIS UNFURLING ALONG 
THE BORDERS IN THE SUNSHINE IT SEEMS HIGHLY PROBABLE THAT THE 
MANTLE OF THEIR NAMESAKE HAS FALLEN UPON THEM, AND IT SEEMS WELL 
TO INCLINE one's EAR AND OPEN WIDE ONE's EYES LEST WE MISS SOME 
SMALLEST SHADE OF MEANING IN THIS RARELY ILLUMINATED MESSAGE" 



BORDER IRISES 161 

and delight in the sunniest situations in the garden. 
Among them may be found plants from four inches in 
height to three and one-half feet, all bearing large, con- 
spicuous flowers above the erect, swordlike foliage, the 
strong vertical lines of which are so valuable in the 
borders where so much is uncertain or spreading. 

Most important in the Pogoniris group are those 
known as German Irises which include, not only I. 
germanica, the type, a May-flowering species with few 
varieties, but many closely allied forms blooming in 
June; as pallida, squalens, amoena, aphylla, florentina 
and others, each of which has numerous garden hy- 
brids. The familiar blue-purple Flag of old gardens is 
typical of these German Irises — hardy and patient — 
blooming with prodigal generosity under the most un- 
toward conditions. How often we see it holding high 
its splendid head close to the dusty roadside whence it 
has found its way through the broken palings of a 
neglected dooryard, or keeping guard in great spreading 
patches with the enduring Lilacs over the crumbling 
ruins of what was once a home. 

Some of the other varieties of I. germanica are much 
finer than the Old Purple, though none are more willing 
and few are better for mass planting, as: 

I. Kochii, deep claret-purple, twenty-three inches. 

Amas, amethyst standards and violet falls, thirty-two 
inches. 

Crimson King, splendid red-purple, twenty-one inches. 



162 MY GARDEN 

Kharput, strong violet-purple, large flowers, thirty- 
three inches. 

Ingeborg, standards white, falls tender gray, orange 
beard, seventeen inches. 

Other tall-growing, May -flowering Irises are I. floren- 
Una, albicans, Billioti, Cengialti, benacensis, and fiave- 
scens. Florentina, from the root of which is made the 
fragrant orris powder, is only less familiar as a charming 
inhabitant of old gardens than the Purple Flag. It is 
one of the loveliest of Irises, and its French-gray crepe 
flowers are invaluable to us in creating May pictures. 
It is fine with the Dicentras and tall pink Tulips of the 
Cottage and Darwin types; with the yellow Doronicums 
and the pretty lavender-flowered Phlox divaricata, and is 
splendid in spreading groups near pink-flowered Crab- 
apple trees. Albicans and its variety Princess of Wales 
are forms of florentina blooming a little later and with 
flowers very nearly a pure white. 

Iris Billioti is a tall plant bearing very fragrant red- 
purple blossoms late in May, and /. benacensis, in two 
shades of purple, grows only eighteen inches tall and 
blooms in the early part of the month. 

/. Cengialti, which Miss Jekyll mentions as the nearest 
to a blue Iris, is a slender plant — not so firmly erect as 
many of its kind, but very pretty. Its two varieties 
Loppio and Zephyr, the latter more lilac in colour, are 
well worth possessing. Flavescens, bearing large, soft 
yellow flowers, very sweetly scented, is one of the best of 



BORDER IRISES 163 

the May-flowering sorts. It grows about two and a half 
feet high. 

Besides these tall, early-flowering Irises there are a 
number of dwarfs, some of which bloom in April. The 
different species and their varieties are rather badly 
confused in catalogues, and I don't know that it makes a 
great deal of difference as they are much alike, save that 
it is interesting to know the true names of one's plants. 
Lurida, with its beautiful coppery-bronze flowers, is too 
distinct to be easily confused with other sorts. With 
me this plant blooms twice, first in early May and again 
in late October, but as I have not seen this generous 
behaviour ascribed to it I do not know if it be its regular 
habit. 

Varieties of 7. Chamaeiris and pumila are constantly 
sent out misnamed — that is, the former is nearly always 
sent where the latter is ordered, and this is irritating 
since pumila is both dwarf er and prettier than Chamae- 
iris and may be easily distinguished by the fact that it 
has no stem, while the taller sort has very distinctly an 
inch or two. The loveliest variety of pumila is caerulea, 
a four-inch mite, very nearly sky-blue in colour, and 
there is also a pretty sky-blue sort called Attraction. 
Chamaeiris has a number of good sorts — red-purple, 
blue-purple, citron, pale yellow, and I believe white. I. 
gracilis bears a charming silver-gray flower shot with 
mauve and sweetly scented. I. lutescens is pure yellow 
of a very fine warm tone. There are also the Hybrid 



164 MY GARDEN 

Crimean Irises in large variety, varying from six inches 
to a foot in height. 

All these Dwarf Irises bloom in April and May, and 
are very charming in spreading patches along the edges 
of the borders between the mounds of Arabis, Aubrietia, 
Iberis, and Alyssum, backed by ranks of early Tulips 
and Daffodils. They spread quickly and blossom so 
freely as to produce sheets of solid colour. 

A good and representative collection of the tall June- 
flowering German Irises which are among the most 
valuable of hardy plants is the following: 

Amoena Section. 

Vlnnocence, ivory-white with gold beard, twenty- 
six inches. 

Mrs. H. Darwin, blue and white, orange beard, 
twenty-eight inches. 

Thorbeck, rich purple with white markings, thirty-six 
inches. 

Neglecta Section. 

Black Prince, standards lavender, falls blackish- 
purple, two and one-half feet. 

Cordelia, two shades of rosy-lilac, two feet. 

Willie Barr, standards French-gray, falls white traced 
violet, eighteen inches. 

Pallida Section. 

Dalmatica, splendid large clear lilac flowers, broad, 
strong foliage, forty inches. 



BORDER IRISES 165 

Celeste, silvery -lavender, three feet. 

Her Majesty, standards soft rose, falls deeper in 
colour, two and one-half feet. 

Madame Pacquitte, shades of claret, two and one-half 
feet. 

Queen of May, rose-lilac, almost pink, thirty-two 
inches. 

Plicata Section (Syn. Aphylla). 

Bridesmaid, white and silvery-lilac, twenty-seven 
inches. 

Madame Chereau, white frilled lavender, thirty-eight 
inches. 

Sappho, fine white flower with lilac edges, two feet. 

Variegata Section. 

Innocenza, pure white, gold crest. 
Darius, primrose-yellow and lilac. 
Maori King, golden-yellow and maroon. 

Squalens Section. 

Jacquiniana, copper colour and claret, two and one- 
half feet. 

Dr. Bernice, bronze and maroon, two feet. 

Exquisite, clouded yellow and rose-lilac, twenty-six 
inches. 

June borders made up of groups of these German 
Irises intermingled with tall blue and white Lupines, 



166 MY GARDEN 

Lemon Lilies, Foxgloves, and Peach-leaved Campanulas, 
with a background of Persian Lilacs and such free-grow- 
ing Roses as Stan well's Perpetual, Madame Plantier, and 
the yellow Briers — Harisoni and the Persian — ^and edged 
with double white Pinks and Nepeta Mussini, are a joy 
indeed, if one has sufficient room to give up a whole 
border to a single month. Often such a border as this 
may be made in some inconspicuous part of the grounds 
where it need be visited only when in festal array. 

All these Bearded Irises with fleshy, creeping rhizomes 
or roots should be planted with the rhizome partly 
above the surface of the ground, for the health of the 
plant requires that this should be well ripened by the 
sun, and the best time to set them out is just after they 
have flowered. To increase one's stock pieces of the 
thick root may be broken from the parent clump, the 
foliage cut back to an inch or so, and the -root set firmly, 
but only part way in the earth. These plants should be 
large enough to bloom the following year. 

The Evansea or crested group is a small one and but 
two of its members known to me are suitable for the 
open garden. A jagged "crest" replaces the "beard" 
of the Pogoniris and the rhizome is thick and creeps 
along the surface of the ground very much as do the 
roots of the latter. 

I. tectorum, the Japanese Roof Iris, from the roots of 
which the ladies of Japan make a famed cosmetic, is to 
me one of the most beautiful of the family. The re- 



BORDER IRISES 167 

flexed leaves are slightly glaucous; the flower stalk, 
about eighteen inches high, bears several very large, 
flat blue-purple flowers curiously clouded with a deeper 
colour and further embellished by an ivory crest. There 
is a rare white variety which is surpassed in elegance 
and distinction by few flowers known to me. Though 
tectorum is often spoken of as not very amenable, it 
grows here with great freedom in a slightly raised sunny 
border protected on the north and east by the garden 
wall, and bears its esthetic flowers in satisfying pro- 
fusion. I have raised many plants of tectorum from 
seed gathered from my own plants many of which have 
bloomed the second year. 

Wee Iris cristata, a native American found in parts of 
Maryland and Virginia, has the appearance of some- 
thing rare and costly, but grows like any weed in the 
borders and makes a charming edging. The plants 
grow only about four inches high, and the large spreading 
lavender blossoms made brilliant by a conspicuous gold 
crest are so profusely borne as to quite hide the foliage. 
They flower in May, and I like to plant them in front of 
the orange-scarlet Geums or between mounds of deep- 
purple Aubrietia. 

Many delightful plants are to be found in the Apogon 
or Beardless section of the rhizomatous Irises, and most 
of these, while as easy to grow and as showy as the 
German Irises, are, save for the Japanese sort, rare in 
gardens. Perhaps this is because they are looked upon 



168 MY GARDEN 

as water lovers, and while this is true of a large majority 
of them I have not found any that will not grow and 
flower contentedly in rich, deeply dug garden soil. The 
blossoms of this type of Iris are more delicately modelled 
than those of the Bearded group and seem poised like 
gay butterflies above the slender grasslike foliage, and 
instead of the fleshy root there is a bunch of slender 
rootlets. 

Of the Beardless Irises preferring the dryer parts of 
the garden, /. missouriensis, a native, is the best. It is 
an early bloomer producing its yellow-blotched lavender 
blossoms very freely. I. foetidissima, growing wild in 
Great Britain, is unique among its kind, for, while the 
blossoms are dull and not lovely, the orange-scarlet 
seeds, which cling all winter to the flaring pods, are 
pretty and decorative, and are useful at a season when 
colour in the garden is at a premium. This Iris is also 
one of the few which does not abhor shade, but it has a 
drawback in the disagreeable odour which emanates 
from its handsome foliage when bruised. A low-grow- 
ing and very pretty Iris for near the front of the border 
is 7. graminea. Its gay, reddish-purple blossoms are 
almost hidden among its narrow, grasslike leaves. It is 
easily grown in any sunny border and has an agreeable 
fragrance. 7. fulva, which I have not yet been able to 
flower, is described as bearing handsome terra-cotta 
flowers on stems two feet tall. Mr. W. R. Dykes 
speaks of it as "difficult" and says it demands *'a hot 



BORDER IRISES 169 

and dry position if it is to produce its remarkable blos- 
soms in any profusion." 

Preeminent among the moisture lovers is the great 
Japanese Iris, I. laevigata or Kaempferi, which is one of 
the finest hardy plants we have but which does not do as 
well as some of the others of its class in the dry borders 
of the garden. Indeed in its chosen place by the water- 
side it is so truly magnificent it seems a pity to be 
satisfied with it grown under any other conditions. In 
very deep, rich soil, freely watered especially while the 
buds are forming, one may realize much beauty but may 
not command the same luxuriance of growth and splen- 
did spread of blossom that one is graciously vouchsafed 
in a naturally moist situation. The huge blossoms of 
the Japanese Iris frequently measure six inches across 
and are most wonderful in colour and texture. Mr. 
Irwin Lynch in his valuable "Book of the Iris" gives 
the following as good varieties: 

Alexander von Humboldt, pure white. 

Chyia, lilac and white. 

Her Majesty, violet, speckled white. 

Keiko, blush suffused and speckled rose. 

Lady Scott Monorief, white with rose halo. 

Netta, white, edged rose-pink. 

Ozaha, pale sky-blue passing to white with golden 
blotch. 

The length of their blossoming period may be quite 
appreciably lengthened by planting some in partial 



170 MY GARDEN 

shade. They are easily raised from seed, the young 
plants usually blooming the second or third year. 

The next most important group of these beardless 
moisture lovers is the slender I. sihirica and its varieties 
— symmetrical plants with lightly made fairy blossoms 
poised delicately above the narrow, reflexing foliage. 
Particularly pure and lovely is the white sort, I. sihirica 
var. alba; and there are good blue, lavender, and purple 
forms. These Siberians are most effective planted in 
rather large groups, as a single plant is not strong enough 
to create any great effect, and as the frail character of 
their beauty suffers in comparison with their more robust 
German cousins they are best kept out of each other's 
company. 

A close relative of sibirica is I. orientalisy which is not 
to be confounded with that orientalis whose more 
familiar name is /. ochroleuca. Two varieties of the 
Siberian orientalis, Blue King and Snow Queen, are 
among the most conspicuous and valuable of garden 
Irises. The one bears intense blue-purple blossoms 
with reddish spathes and the other pure white in such 
profusion as to almost hide the foliage. The ripened 
seed pods are so numerous that they give the plant a 
very untidy appearance after flowering, so it is best to 
cut them off. All the Siberians are easily raised from 
seed, and the plants when once established should 
be left alone to perfect their beauty. They do as well 
in the rich borders of the garden as in the moist 



BORDER IRISES 171 

situations which their hollow stems tell us that they 
enjoy. 

/. longipetala is the only tractable member of the 
beautiful and desirable California group. It bears a 
lovely sprightly flower with deep-toned veinings on the 
lavender ground of its standards and tender silvery 
falls. It is said that this plant should be moved only 
when in full growth. /. spuria and its various forms 
are well worth planting, though I believe they vary much 
in desirability. Mrs. A. W. Tate, the only form I have 
here, is a good plant with fine foliage and a strong stem 
carrying several deep-lavender flowers. 

Closely related to this is I. guildenstaedtiana — a for- 
midable name and a none too attractive species. The 
purple form is better than the dingy yellow, but neither 
need be included in any but a large collection. 

Three fine yellow Irises for the border or waterside 
are /. aurea^ Monnieri, and ochroleuca. The first bears 
a finely modelled butter-yellow flower with slightly 
crimped petals poised well above the foliage; Monnieri 
sends its lemon-coloured blossoms aloft on stems four 
feet tall, and has a noble relative, Monaurea, deeper in 
colour, which is said to grow six feet tall in moist situa- 
tions. There is also another relative, Monspur, with 
striking blue and yellow flowers that is too good a thing 
to be omitted from a collection of any size. Ochroleuca, 
the Gold Banded Iris, is said to reach a height of six feet 
when well established in a moist situation, but it has not 



172 MY GARDEN 

done this for me. The great thick-skinned ivory- 
coloured blossoms, deepening to pure gold at the base, 
are wonderfully beautiful, and one wishes that they 
might be borne with greater generosity. We have used 
these yellow Irises with the addition of Monspur and 
Snow Queen to encircle a little ever-overflowing pool in 
the walled garden. They bloom late^ — in late June and 
early July — but in May the little bed is gay with Forget- 
me-nots, Violas, and double Poet's Narcissus. 

Our pretty native, 7. versicolor, which Thoreau said is 
too gay "like some women's bonnets," and the yellow 
Water Flag (7. pseudacorus) , are a bit too free with their 
progeny to make garden life quite the thing for them. 
Far and wide the quickly germinating seeds are scat- 
tered, and before one knows it there are cunning baby 
Irises coming up all over the garden which in a sur- 
prisingly short time have grown into stout clumps, and 
choicer, less pervasive things are crowded out. But in 
the wilder parts of the place, the meadows, or along the 
stream or pond, these two may increase at will, and one 
is only grateful for their fruitfulness. 

With the Bulbous Irises I have had no great ex- 
perience though the few that are known to me have 
made me anxious to extend my acquaintance among 
them. Nothing could be more lovely than those be- 
longing to the reticulata group. I have grown only 
three of these Irises including the type, but Professor 
Bailey gives quite a number as hardy in the vicinity of 



BORDER IRISES 173 

New York City. These Irises have curiously "netted" 
bulbs, hence the name, and the type and its variety 
Krelagei are characterized by peculiar four-sided leaves 
with a horny tip. The type is the most beautiful of all. 
I never cease to be quite overwhelmed at the appearance 
of these brilliant purple and gold flowers so early in the 
year, shining through their stiff, narrow leaves. Last 
spring they flashed forth while the snow still lay upon 
the ground, and in spite of the discouraging cold their 
delicious violet fragrance was discernible several feet 
away. /. Krelagei bears a duller flower, and neither 
this nor the variety histrioides has, save in a slight de- 
gree, the violet perfume. Histrioides blooms a little 
before the others and bears larger flowers which often 
expand before the leaves are well out of the ground. If 
taken into a warm room both this and Krelagei will give 
out more perfume, but the type seems quite undaunted 
in its determination to make sweet the cold March 
garden. 

All the reticulata Irises are prone to a deadly disease 
which shows on the netted surface of the bulb in inklike 
spots, and soon proves fatal. Professor Michael Foster 
recommends lifting and replanting the bulbs frequently, 
discarding those which show the blight, and another 
authority advocates soaking them for an hour or so in a 
solution of formaline of the strength of one in three 
hundred parts. My reticulatas have done fairly well in 
a raised border against a wall facing south, where they 



174 MY GARDEN 

are kept dry in winter. The soil is a mixture of sand 
and rather heavy loam, but I believe an admixture of 
clay is more desirable for these bulbs. 

The so-called Spanish and English Irises are quite in- 
dispensable if we have a spot to suit them. The stem 
of the Spanish Iris (/. Xiphium) rises stiffly to a height 
of about eighteen inches and carries two flowers quite 
conventional in their chaste formality of line. They 
are so inexpensive that the bulbs may be bought by the 
thousand, and I know of no investment which insures 
a greater return in beauty. They are best planted in 
August that they may send up their narrow, onion-like 
growth, which seems a sort of guarantee of good faith, 
before frost. Any dry, sunny border suits them well, 
but they do not like to be pressed upon by strong grow- 
ing perennials or robbed by greedy annuals, but after 
the foliage has gone they do not object to a carpet 
of such lightly rooting annuals as Sedum coeruleum, 
lonopsidium acaule, or Gypsophila muralis. When the 
bulbs become overcrowded it is well to lift and replant 
them comfortably. 

These flowers have been called the "poor man's 
Orchid," but rich and poor and all the middle-sized folk 
between will make no mistake in planting Spanish Irises 
generously both in a cutting garden, for they are lovely 
for indoor decoration, and all about the garden in nooks 
and corners as we like to plant the Daffodils. The white 
varieties are exquisite, and the great bronze Thunderbolt 



BORDER IRISES 175 

very striking. Leander is pure yellow and sweetly 
scented, and there are any number of delightful others 
running through many shades of cream, bronze, ame- 
thyst, lavender, blue, and yellow. These are among the 
few plants which may with safety be bought "mixed" 
— inharmony seems impossible to them. 

The English Iris (/. xiphioides) requires more mois- 
ture than is usually to be had in our dry American gar- 
dens, and in my own garden, even with faithful water- 
ing, it has not been happy. It is very handsome with 
large spreading flowers in shades of blue, purple, and 
white which appear with the Spanish Irises in July. 

These with other bulbous Irises should be planted in 
the autumn, and may be found in the catalogues of 
"Dutch Bulbs." Another year I hope to add to my 
collection I. tuherosa, "the Widow," /. persica, and two 
of the Juno group said to be the least crotchety — I. 
orchioides and caucasica. 



CHAPTER ELEVEN 

THE LURE OF THE LILY 
'Look to the lilies how they grow!" 



— Moir. 



WHO has not felt the lure of the Lily, and how 
many, like myself, have withstood the siren 
call in fear of the pitfalls she is said to spread 
for her admirers? For a long time no Lily gleamed 
within my garden, and I comforted myself — like the 
small boy who will do great deeds when he is old — with 
the promise that when I became a really experienced 
gardener I would have them in plenty. 

But what we found when we came to live in this 
place completely upset all my theories upon Lily grow- 
ing, for here, in the unkempt dooryard, grew Lilies, in a 
luxuriance undreamed, successfully disputing with the 
purple Phlox and rioting old-fashioned Roses in the 
tangled grass for room to "rise and shine." True, 
there were but two sorts, L. candidiim, growing in 
spreading patches at the foot of a splendid purple 
Clematis vine which wreathed the porch, and L. ti- 
grinuin, which in its season sent up dozens and dozens 
of five-foot stalks hanging out innumerable great orange- 
coloured funnels in hilarious discord with the magenta 

176 



THE LURE OF THE LILY 177 

Phloxes. Here was no frail delicacy or capriciousness, 
and feeling that I had lost much time the Lily lists at 
once became a source of absorbing interest and one 
which necessitated much self-control, for Lilies bought 
in any quantity are pretty expensive. 

All authorities tell us that no garden will grow all the 
Lilies; indeed, to find half a dozen which will accept our 
conditions is highly fortunate. I had no way of finding 
out which ones were suited to my soil and situation and 
so experiment was the only course, and after several 
years' trial given to sixteen sorts can report that seven 
have accepted the garden absolutely, three have not 
quite made up their minds, and six will have none of us. 
My experience with Lilies has been only in the garden 
proper, grown in the beds and borders among other 
hardy plants, but, of course, if one wishes to specialize a 
bit it is possible to prepare beds for them filled with the 
soil best suited to their needs, but my own interest is 
only in finding those which need no greater considera- 
tion than is given to the other hardy plants, and which 
may be counted upon for a fine effect in their season. 
There are about eighty known species of Lily, but for 
those with aspirations akin to my own, and in our cli- 
mate, I should say that the choice should be limited to 
about twenty-five. 

One of the most important facts to know about Lilies 
is that many have two sets of roots, one growing from 
the base of the bulb in autumn to provide food for the 



178 MY GARDEN 

bulb, and the other from the base of the stem in spring 
to provide for the needs of the flowers and leaves to 
come. Those double-rooted Lilies must be planted 
more deeply than the single-rooted sorts, for if the upper 
set of roots is too near the surface of the soil they will be 
insufficiently supplied with moisture and often burned 
and injured by the sun, and while the bulb may remain 
alive it will be overtaxed and weakened by the extra 
strain put upon it and there will be no flowers, or at least 
very poor and imperfect ones. Dr. Wallace, in his 
"Notes on Lilies," states as his belief the fact that the 
deadly disease which yearly destroys so many auratum 
and other double-rooting Lilies is usually caused by the 
shallow planting of the bulbs. They should be set at 
least eight inches below the surface of the soil, while for 
the single-rooting sorts five or six is sufficient. L. 
auratum, BatemannicB, Brownii, croceum, Henryi, ele- 
ganSy longiflorum, tigrinum, speciosum, Hansoni, Kra- 
meri are some of those which grow two sets of roots and, 
as among these are some of the loveliest and most use- 
ful of Lilies, we must do what we can to bring about 
the conditions which tend to their highest development. 
Few Lilies do well in sun unless the stems are pro- 
tected, and so we make a charming virtue of necessity 
and clothe the tender stems with the foliage of other 
plants. In shady places ferns make a most exquisite 
setting for Lilies, and in the sunny borders many plants 
may be called upon to serve the same purpose. Of these 



THE LURE OF THE LILY 179 

none is more charming than Dicentra eximia with its 
fernUke foUage, but on account of its pink flowers it 
may be used only with Lilies of white, pink, or buff col- 
ouring — candidum, sjpeciosum, Brownii. Other good 
plants for the purpose are Corydalis lutea and cheilanthi- 
folia, Funkias subcordata and Sieholdii, Nepeta Mussini, 
Artemisia Stelleriana and Abrotanum, Rue, Columbine, 
Thalictrum minus, and the large-leaved Saxifrages. 

Some kinds of Lilies * are said to prefer a heavy, peaty 
soil, among them being L. auratum, tigrinum, Hansoni, 
giganteum, Washingtonianum, Humboldtii, testaceum, and 
Martagon. Of those reputed to do best in light soils 
are L. Philadetphicum, bulbiferum, croceum, dahuricuniy 
concolor, elegans, candidum, longiflorum, chalcedonicum, 
and speciosum. I think it well, however, not to take 
these lists as final, but to find out fo'r one's self what 
Lilies one's soil will entertain successfully. 

The soil recommended in Bailey's "Cyclopedia of 
American Horticulture" as being the most generally 
suited to Lilies is a light, rich loam freely mixed with 
sand and grit. Standing water about the bulbs is a 
most frequent cause of destruction, and to guard against 



* In the July Garden Magazine for 1915 Mr. E. H. Wilson, in a most interesting 
article on Lilies, insists that the reputed desire on the part of Lilies for a peaty soil 
is pure fiction: that the major portion of them are found growing in desert places, 
on dry, rocky hillsides or in volcanic deposits, and that even the so-called "moisture 
lovers" grow in the swamps on little hillocks which are quite dry in winter. This 
would quite revolutionize the science of Lily growing, which has so far brought 
about most indifferent results, and teach us to give our Lilies a poor, gritty soil 
with good, sharp drainage. 



180 MY GARDEN 

this it is well to give the bulbs a cushion and covering of 
sand when setting them out. The Japanese place Lily 
bulbs which have widely spreading scales upon the side 
to prevent water lodging between the scales and thus 
rotting the bulb; L. Brownii is best thus treated. Fresh 
manure is very injurious to the bulbs, and never should 
come into contact with them, but a heavy mulch of well- 
rotted stuff in winter is advisable, and liquid manure 
applied during the growing season is beneficial. 

Except for L. candidum, which should be planted in 
August, Lilies may be planted any time in the autumn. 
When the bulbs arrive they should be carefully ex- 
amined and all torn or rotted scales removed, and if 
there are small decayed spots these should be rubbed 
with powdered charcoal or sulphury a dusting with 
powdered sulphur is a wise precaution in any case. If 
Lilies show by their vigour and beauty that they are at 
peace they should not be disturbed until they show 
signs of overcrowding, but if for any reason it is neces- 
sary, or desirable, to move them I think the best time to 
do it is when the bulb is in early growth. It may be 
done with a fair measure of success when in flower, 
which is sometimes convenient in moving wild sorts 
from their native home to the garden, the important 
consideration being to keep the bulb out of the ground 
for as short a space as possible. 

Of course, the first Lilies to engage our attention 
were those we found here, and these, after the first year, 



THE LURE OF THE LILY 181 

were removed to the new garden as the dooryard was 
in such a hopeless tangle that it required strenuous 
measures. The Tiger Lilies suffered the change most 
graciously, but the lovely white Madonna Lilies have 
sulked a bit. In the dooryard they had probably been 
left absolutely alone for years, and the ground over 
their bulbs was baked as hard as iron, and these con- 
ditions are, the wise ones tell us, exactly what this Lily 
prefers : it will stand anything save damp and coddling, 
and sometimes it will do well and sometimes it will not, 
whatever the conditions. Certainly it is loveliest of 
Lilies, and when one is vouchsafed a truly happy group 
of them, shining above the hoary foliage of Southern- 
wood or in some other pleasant association, one is filled 
with rejoicing. One may dust the bulbs well with 
sulphur, set them out in August in a sunny spot, and 
leave them alone — and, of course, one may hope. 

With the Tiger Lilies the story is quite different, for 
they seldom have the heart to disappoint any one, and 
they are among the very finest of hardy plants. Many 
people care only for the rare and difficult in the floral 
world, but it is not with these that we get our broad and 
satisfying colour masses, however interesting it may be 
to conquer an.d bring into subjection the wild spirit of 
some unwilling plant from torrid or frigid zone, from 
mountain peak or desert sands, and the ease with which 
this Lily may be coaxed to give of its best, and the 
small cost at which it may be procured, should not 



182 MY GARDEN 

prevent its receiving the recognition which it richly 
deserves. 

We have several fine colonies of Tiger Lilies in our 
borders, one in association with blue and white Monks- 
hood and tall white Phlox is particularly good, and an- 
other with pale-yellow Mulleins and metallic Sea Hollies 
is also good. A little larger and finer in every way than 
the common Tiger Lily is L. tigrimum var. sylendens, and 
there is a double sort which is not an improvement. 
Tiger Lilies belong to late July and August. 

The speciosum Lilies were next to come into the gar- 
den and have proved themselves entirely trustworthy 
under ordinary garden conditions. There is the frosted 
var. alhurriy the garnet- jewelled var. rubrum, and the 
more brilliant Melpomene, and I think there are still 
others. These Lilies are not so tall as the Tigers, but 
make splendid groups, which may be effectively inter- 
mingled with Dicentra eximia. They bloom in late Au- 
gust, and their refined beauty is pleasing in this season 
of rank foliage and high colours. 

The three native Lilies, L. superbiim, canadense, and 
Philadelphicum, are well worth bringing into the garden. 
Most of us are fortunate enough to know them in their 
natural environment, for they are very plentiful. L. 
superbum rises superb indeed from many a swamp of the 
middle and northern states, its tall, strong stem carry- 
ing from twelve to twenty-five orange-scarlet, recurved 
blossoms spotted brown. This Lily does very well in 



THE LURE OF THE LD^Y 183 

good garden soil if given a bit of shade and a ground 
cover. It blooms in July and August. 

Gay L. canadense grows about here in the low mead- 
ows as thickly as the Buttercups, and I have trans- 
planted many to the garden borders where they are 
quite content, save in very dry summers when my water 
supply is low. Philadelphicum, not quite so plentiful as 
the other two, is still fairly familiar to many of us. It 
grows plentifully on Nantucket Island and creates a 
brilliant spectacle, holding its glistening scarlet flowers 
erectly through the long grass of dry meadows. This 
Lily is a little more difficult to catch and tame than 
the two others, and like many another wild thing loses 
much of its flash and individuality when brought under 
restraint. 

We have, however, in the elegans type, Lilies much 
like L. philadelphicum in character. They are orange or 
scarlet in colour and are carried erectly. These are 
among the easiest of Lilies to manage. I have them in 
various parts of the garden, but mainly in borders in the 
west and south, and they have increased at a great rate. 
They are dwarf in stature, usually not over a foot high, 
and some are less. They bloom with us the latter part 
of June, and there are many fine hybrids. Of these, 
Alice Wilson is a splendid lemon-yellow sort. Other 
very good varieties are Peter Barr, soft yellow; Van 
Houttci, bright scarlet; Orange Queen — Prince of 
Orange — ^apricot with black spots. I believe the beau- 



184 MY GARDEN 

tiful L. Batemanniae is a member of the elegans family, 
though it is not usually catalogued as such, and is fully 
four feet tall when well grown. Its Lilies are pure, un- 
spotted apricot in colour, and they are carried erectly. 
I am sorry to say that this is one of those that has not 
quite made up its mind about our garden, but I am 
always hoping to turn the tide in our favour. 

One more splendidly coloured, erectly carried Lily we 
have in the garden, and this, I am rejoiced to say, is not 
one of the uncertainties. No finer Lily grows than L, 
croceum, the Orange or Herring Lily of old gardens. It 
is perfectly hardy and will thrive in full sunshine in any 
good garden soil, or it does well in partial shade. It 
bears several soft orange-coloured flowers, spotted dull 
red, on a four-foot stalk, and it blooms with the Delphin- 
iums, with which it is very charming. 

Two other Lilies remain that are doing well and in- 
creasing in this garden: the vivid little L. tenuifolium 
and the beautiful Brownii. The former is a Siberian 
and grows but a foot and a half high. It bears from six 
to ten small, fiercely scarlet, waxen Lilies to a stalk, and 
the leaves are fine and numerous. It is perfectly hardy 
but enjoys a shaded spot, and its slenderness of growth 
unfits it to appear with large, coarse plants. It is 
a brilliant and lovely Lily, particularly happy when 
grown among ferns. The fact that L. Brownii accepted 
our garden without a complaint is a matter for much 
congratulation, for it is a most splendid Lily and one not 



THE LURE OF THE LILY 185 

considered so easy to manage. It grows here in a west 
border in very light soil and has a ground cover of large- 
leaved Saxifrages. The tall, wandlike stalks carry from 
two to four ivory-coloured, funnel-shaped blooms^ the 
outside of which is a soft chocolate colour, and the orange- 
coloured anthers give just the touch of brilliance needed 
to make the soft harmony of ivory and chocolate per- 
fect. It blooms in late July and early August. Damp- 
ness is its great enemy and we should imitate the Japa- 
nese, who lay the bulbs upon their sides to prevent water 
lodging between the scales. 

From now on the recital is not so triumphant. I 
planted with high hopes L. Krameri, also known as 
japonicum. Just once it bore its lovely pink funnel- 
shaped flowers and forever disappeared. Mr. Adams, 
in his very helpful book "Lilies," which I did not 
possess at the time, says that this Lily is "very erratic 
and in cold climates safest in pots. Prefers light, rich, 
sandy loam, or peat and good drainage." With L. 
Washingtonianum I fared no better and know now that 
I gave none of the conditions that the poor Lily craved. 
It is one of the Californians, all difficult to manage in 
our eastern gardens, but this one said to be less so than 
the others if its requirements are observed. It loves a 
deep, peaty soil, with generous additions of coarse sand 
and leaf -mold and never-failing moisture — at the roots. 
Also it is most comfortable in partial shade. Humboldtii 
is another Californian, something like superbum in ap- 



186 MY GARDEN 

pearance, but taller, which, while not a complete failure 
here, is certainly not a success. It prefers a deepj'peaty 
soil, and is not at all of a mind to give any very fine show- 
ing on plain garden fare. L. Hansoni* I have hopes of, 
for while its blooms this year were few and poor, it was its 
first year and it is too soon to put it down as a complete 
failure. This Lily is bright orange, spotted brown. It 
has rather a pleasant perfume and its petals are waxen 
and reflexed. Mr. Adams says it is " quite hardy and 
easy of culture." He recommends a light loam and 
says that it should be planted among shrubs or low 
plants to protect the young shoots, as it is one of the 
earliest Lilies to appear in spring. 

L. auratum, the Gold Banded Lily of Japan, is by 
many considered the finest Lily in cultivation, and 
certainly it is the largest and most magnificent of my 
limited acquaintance, but sad to tell it is one of those 
which will not accept my garden as its home, and for this 
I owe it a grudge, for I would dearly love to have it and 
have done much to enchain its capricious fancy. It 
is comforting to read in Mr. C. L. Allen's book on bulbs 
that "X. auratum has disappointed more of its admirers 
than almost any other Lily, because of its failure to 
adapt itself to our soil and climate." Many authorities 
agree that this Lily must be renewed every three or four 
years, as it "runs out." Its preference in the way of 



* Hansoni has improved suflSciently in its third year to be considered one of those 
that has accepted the garden. Humboldtii is also getting settled. 



THE LURE OF THE LILY 187 

soil is for moist peat with a mixture of sand and leaf- 
mold, and it particularly requires good drainage and 
partial shade. This fine Lily grows from five to eight 
feet tall and is capable of bearing twenty-five superb 
white, gold-banded blossoms on a single stalk; it is also 
capable of bearing just one, as I know from sad ex- 
perience. It blooms in late July and August. 

These are but a few of the Lilies at our command, but 
it is as far as I have got with the Lily lists. The follow- 
ing is a list of those sorts which nearly all authorities 
agree that we may attempt with a reasonable assurance 
of success : 



Lilium Batemanniae 


Lilium Martagon 


<< 


Brownii 


«< 


monadelphum 


<« 


bulbiferum 


(( 


pardalinum 


(( 


canadense 


<( 


philadelphicum 


a 


candidum 


<( 


pomponium 


<< 


chalcedonicum 


<< 


pyrenaicum 


<< 


croceum 


<< 


speciosum 


(( 


dauricum 


(( 


superbum 


it 


elegans 


(( 


tenuifolium 


(< 


Grayi 


(( 


tesiaceum 


<< 


Hansoni 


<< 


tigrinum 


<( 


Henryi 


<( 


Washingtonianum 


(( 


Humboldtii 







CHAPTER TWELVE 

who's who among the annuals 

Too perfect for a life so brief 
Seemed every star and bud and bell. 

— Celia Thaxter. 

THE feeling that annuals do not quite "belong" 
in the sense that the regular inhabitants of the 
garden do is perhaps an unjust one, but to 
this sentiment toward them I must plead guilty. Their 
reappearance in our midst is entirely a matter of our 
whim, while the hardy herbaceous plants, save in case of 
death, accident, or misbehaviour, are sure to greet us 
from their accustomed places every spring. I love the 
gay summer visitors, but do not want too many of them 
at once. They give to the garden a fugitive, unstable 
quality, like that felt in cities where every one lives in 
an apartment and moves at least once a year, and there 
are no old families, or traditions, nor anything comfort- 
ably familiar and just as it has always been. Many 
annuals do their best to overcome their transitory nature 
by sowing their seeds broadcast, which, in the case of 
hardy annuals, come safely through the winter and 
are on hand with the perennials to meet the spring, not, 
however, in their proper places, but all over the garden, 

188 



WHO'S WHO AMONG THE ANNUALS 189 

with a naive disregard for the premises of old settlers, 
and creating havoc in various of our cherished colour 
schemes. In our garden the English Field Poppy is a 
great offender along this line. It has not been planted 
here for years, but every summer a scarlet tide rises 
upon the garden, holding sway for almost two weeks, 
when, "like fires extinguished by the rain," it is gone. 
Each year I say it shall not happen again, for they mean 
the destruction of many a choice colour arrangement, 
but not yet have I been able to resist their blithe 
clamour, or their flattering assumption of the quality of 
mercy in me, which assures their safety, even in the 
midst of the pink Pyre thrums. 

Sweet Alyssum, Cornflowers, Love-in-a-mist, Li- 
naria, California Poppies, Sweet Sultans, Erysimums, 
Annual Anchusa, Balsams, Marigolds, Nicotiana, Snap- 
dragons, Mignonette, Candytuft, and Poppies of all sorts 
are among those that do their best to become permanent 
residents, and these seedlings, being available so early in 
the year, are very handy for filling the places of such 
recalcitrant perennials as may have taken themselves 
off during the winter. Indeed this is one of the im- 
portant uses of annuals. No winter passes but takes 
its toll of "hardy " plants, and we have not always others 
to take their places, or do not care to go to the expense 
of buying, so that we should be grateful to this class of 
flowers that will, for five or ten cents, cover the dis- 
tressing blanks with loveliness. Biennials, too, leave 



190 MY GARDEN 

spaces behind them to be filled, and there are also the 
bulb borders and beds. 

Annuals are splendid for cutting, inexpensive, pre- 
sent a wide range of colour, form, and fragrance, germi- 
nate and develop quickly, and bloom with prodigal gen- 
erosity, all of which are good reasons for having plenty, 
but not in the flower garden proper — a few used as 
fillers-in, or to create some special effect, and the rest in 
a space set apart for cutting. The kitchen garden is 
usually the most convenient place. 

Annuals are known as hardy, half-hardy, and tender. 
In milder climates than ours many hardy annuals are 
sown in autumn, and while we may meet with some 
success with this method it is never a certainty, and I 
think that March and early April planting of hardy 
annuals out of doors, or February planting indoors, will 
prove more satisfactory. Half-hardy and tender an- 
nuals may be sown out of doors about the time the 
farmers are planting corn, or may be started under 
glass in February, which, in the case of tender annuals, 
is a great advantage, as it gives them a start ahead of 
the drought that often gives them such a setback as to 
leave them permanently stunted. It is really important 
to know this difference between hardy and tender sorts, 
for an early sowing outdoors of tender annuals will 
result in complete loss, while a too late sowing of hardy 
kinds will just as certainly end in failure. 

This class of plants is as impatient of neglect and 



WHO'S WHO AMONG THE ANNUALS 191 

adverse conditions as any other, though an impression 
seems to exist to the effect that a Httle scratching of the 
soil and scattering of seed is all that is necessary where 
annuals are concerned. But this is by no means the 
case, and they are quite as capable of sulking and pre- 
senting a spindling, half-clothed appearance when not 
suited as their betters in higher circles, and they always 
repay intelligent attention. In the first place, they are 
nearly all sun worshippers; there are very few that will 
endure shade; also they are a thirsty lot and want 
moisture, but require a well-drained soil, deeply dug, and 
only moderately rich with manure. Each plant must 
have plenty of room to develop, and too much stress 
cannot be put upon this point. Especially where seed 
is sown where it is to remain, and comes up thickly, un- 
merciful thinning must be done, or a very poor showing 
will be the result. It is economy to buy only the best 
seeds, and better effects will be achieved if seeds are 
bought only in separate colours and varieties. The 
mixed packet is better let alone. A long period of 
bloom is assured if no seed is allowed to form, for an- 
nuals are among those gracious beings who, the more 
you take from them, the more they have to give. A 
pinch of superphosphate, given to each little plant when 
set out and the ground kept cultivated and moist, will 
mean a rich and speedy reward. 

For planting among the perennials I think the follow- 
ing are the twelve best annuals: 



192 MY GARDEN 

Stock, Snapdragon, Sweet-sultan, Wallflower, Mari- 
gold, Zinnia, China Aster, Clarkia, Nigella, Nicotiana, 
Star Chrysanthemum, and Salvia Bluebeard. 

A dozen sorts good for edging are these: 

California Poppies, Sweet Alyssum, Candytuft, 
Dwarf Nasturtiums, Chinese and Japanese Pinks, 
French Marigolds, Silenes, Phlox Drummondii, Nemo- 
phila. Convolvulus minor, Sanvitalia procumbens, and 
Saponaria calabrica. 

There are so many annuals that it would be impos- 
sible to speak of all, and so in the following notes I have 
chosen only those which, after several seasons' trial in 
the gardens here, have proven their usefulness in our 
dry climate. 

The letters h. a., h.h.a., and t.a., stand for hardy, half- 
hardy, and tender annuals. 

Alyssum maritimum, h. a., six inches to one foot. Sweet Alyssum. 

The compact, dwarf varieties, such as Little Gem, are the best for 
edging. Comes into bloom very early and continues until after 
hard frost. Best sown where it is to flower. Fragrant. 
Anagallis arvensis var. caerulea, h. h. a., six to eight inches. Pim- 
pernel. 

A charming little sky-blue flowered plant, which makes pretty 
skylike patches along the front of the border. Best started under 
glass and set out in May. 
Anchusa capensis, h. a., eighteen inches. Cape Forget-me-not. 

Branching growth and pretty forget-me-not-like flowers borne 
all the summer and autumn. Nice for cutting and very pretty in 
the borders. Good drought resister. 
Argemone mexicana, h. a., three feet. Chicalote. 

Bears lovely white crepe poppy like flowers, with conspicuous 
golden stamens. Foliage gray and prickly. Too free a seeder to 



WHO'S WHO AMONG THE ANNUALS 193 

be admitted to choice situations, but splendid for waste places, 
where it perpetuates itself. There is a pale-yellow sort. 
Asperula azurea var. setosa, h. a., one foot. Blue Woodruff. 

A charming responsive little plant, which cheerfully defies the 
drought and puts up, if necessary, with a poor soil and shade. 
Bears heads of clear lavender-blue flowers on stiff stems. Leaves 
in whorls. Pleasantly fragrant. 

Callistephus hortensis, h. h. a., six inches to three feet. China 
Aster. 

Beautiful and indispensable flowers for the late summer and 
autumn, the seeds of which are best started indoors, or in a frame, 
and planted out in May when all danger from frost is past. They 
like a light soil, deeply dug and well manured, and should be 
watered in dry weather. 

There are many fine types. I like best the tall branching sorts 
known as Giant Comet, Ostrich Feather, and Pseony, which grow 
as tall as twenty inches. The Victoria Asters are pyramidal in 
shape and bear countless blossoms with overlapping, recurved 
petals. There is another beautiful sort of rather recent introduc- 
tion, with narrow "channelled" petals that are twisted. Single- 
flowered Asters have lately come into favour and are very pretty. 
The prettiest colours are shell-pink, pale lavender, white, and 
strong purple. 

We tried last year, with great success, a very weak solution of 
Paris Green for the voracious aster beetle. It did not injure the 
plants and was fatal to the beetle. 
Antirrhinum Majus, h. a., six inches to three feet. Snapdragon. 

These are the best and most invaluable of annuals. In mild 
climates and occasionally here in sheltered places, or in the joints 
of walls, they are perennial. For early bloom the seeds should be 
started under glass in February and March. They flower all 
summer and autumn and cover the widest range of colour. The 
flame-coloured ones are particularly splendid, and also those de- 
scribed as "apricot" and "chamois-rose." Shell-pink and coral- 
pink, "old" pink and rose are lovely, also the pure white, blood-redj 
and clear yellow. They come in three heights; tall, medium, and 
dwarf. The medium sorts are the best for general purposes. The 



194 MY GARDEN 

dwarf kinds are most satisfactory for the joints of walls and may be 
used for edgings though they are rather stiff for this purpose. Fra- 
grant. 
Impatiens Balsamina, h. a., two feet. Lady Slipper, Balsam. 

The Camelia-flowered sorts are the best and come in clear colours : 
salmon-rose, scarlet, and pure white. If inclined to grow "leggy," 
instead of compact, the tops may be nipped off. They are among 
the flowers that find it difficult to maintain their improved state 
and are forever slipping back into their former condition of magenta 
clothes and poor figures, so self-sown seedlings should not be al- 
lowed to live. 
Brachycome iberidifolia, h. h. a., six inches. Swan River Daisy. 

Refined little plants, with many blossoms resembling a Cineraria 
— clear lavender with a black and white central disc. The plant is 
rather frail and is comfortable with some light twigs placed in front 
of it. It makes a pretty edging for a summer border. 
Browallia elata, h. a., one foot. 

These form trim little bushes covered with blue or white flowers 
over a long period. They endure drought with fortitude. 
Campanula attica, h. h. a., three inches. Bellflower. 

A wee, blue-belled mite, best suited to a rock garden or a stone- 
edged border, where its roots may find shelter and moisture among 
the stones. 
Celosia, t. a., eighteen inches. Cockscomb. 

I cannot profess to any great enjoyment in the great flowers of 
the Cockscomb, though they make good masses of colour in various 
shades of red, scarlet, salmon, and there is a good old gold sort. 
The "feathered" and "plume" varieties are better and less realistic 
than the "crested." They should be started indoors. 
Centaur ea, h. a.. Knapweed. 

In this family are several very good annuals, best known among 
which is cyanus, the friendly little Cornflower of so true a blue. 
Once planted in the garden one will find the pleasant tufts of 
leaves every year, for the seed is very hardy and this simple flower 
desires gieatly to stay among the "regulars." There are pink and 
white sorts, but these are rather faded looking. A double sort is 
very pretty. 



WHO'S WHO AMONG THE ANNUALS 195 

Centaurea imperialis (Sweet Sultan) is one of the most beautiful 
of annuals, bearing, until frost, long-stemmed, fragrant flowers, in 
shades of mauve, purple, and white — unrivalled for cutting. They 
grow about two feet tall and love a sunny situation. They resent 
disturbance and so should be sown where they are to flower, and 
well thinned to insure perfect development. 

C. americana (American Basket Flower) is less well known, but 
is an extremely handsome plant with large, beautiful lavender 
flowers. 
Cheiranthus, h. a., eighteen inches. Wallflower. 

Sweet and homely is the yellow wallflower "stained with iron- 
brown." The annual variety known as "Parisian extra early," if 
sown under glass in March, will bloom all summer and autumn and 
provide many a nosegay of deliciously scented flowers. There 
are all shades of yellow, red, and russet. 
Chrysanthemum, h. a. 

Among Annual Chrysanthemums those known as the "star- 
group" are the finest: Morning Star, Evening Star, Eastern Star, and 
Northern Star. They make bushy plants about eighteen inches 
high, and bear many large daisylike flowers in shades of yellow 
and orange. They are long stemmed, and good for cutting and last 
well in water. Another good sort is C. inodorum plenissimum. var. 
Bridal Robe, which grows eighteen inches tall and is covered 
with snowy bloom. Lord Beaconsfield and Chamelion, which 
bear handsome crimson and gold flowers, are also useful. The 
Chrysanthemums are easy of culture, asking only full sunshine and 
a good rich soil. 
Clarkia elegans, h. a., two and a half feet. 

Attractive, branching plants, carrying well-clothed flower spikes 
of scarlet, salmon-pink, or white. These flowers are very beautiful, 
and in good soil and sunshine will bloom all summer if not allowed 
to seed. 
Convolvulus minor, eight inches, h. a.. Dwarf Morning Glory. 

It is impossible to imagine anything much prettier than the wide, 
blue-eyed C. tricolour with white throat and yellow decorations. 
These baby Morning Glories stay wide open all day and make nice 
little spreading bushes, very pretty and useful along the front 



196 MY GARDEN 

of the borders. Sow where they are to flower. They bloom all 

summer. 

Cosmos, t. a., six feet. 

This is the tallest and latest flowering annual. The seed is best 
started indoors and set out when danger of frost is past in good soil 
and a sheltered position, giving each plant several feet of room for 
development. The lovely flowers are pink, rose, and white. The 
variety known as Lady Lenox is a lovely pink and very large flow- 
ered, and there is also a white Lady Lenox. 
Delphinium, h. a., three feet. Annual Larkspurs. 

Invaluable plants for cutting, as well as for garden decoration. 
The long spikes of flowers are pink, rose, lavender, purple, and 
white. They are best sown very early in spring where they are tc 
flower, and well thinned when an inch or so high. There are various 
forms, but I think the "tall branched" is the best. 
Dianthus Chinensis, h. a., six to twelve inches. Indian Pink. 

Floriferous little plants, jewel-like in their brilliance and with the 
charm common to all Pinks. They are lovely for edging and come 
in many good varieties. Crimson Belle is a very bright single; 
Purity, a lovely double white; Fireball, double and very bright; 
Mourning Cloak is double and dark crimson strikingly edged with 
white. Salmon Queen, which may be had either single or double, is 
a beautiful colour, and Lucifer is a splendid new sort with dazzling 
scarlet flowers with fringed edges. Often these plants will survive 
a winter and bloom early the following spring. 
Dimorphotheca aurantiaca, twelve to fifteen inches, h. h. a. Na- 
maqualand Daisy. 

This gorgeous South African is a newcomer to our gardens and 
Is so good that it bids fair to make some of the old sorts look to 
their laurels. The great daisylike flowers are a beautiful warm 
salmon-orange in colour, with a black central ring. It blooms all 
summer and seems oblivious to drought. If started outdoors, 
early May is time enough. 
Erysimum Arkansanum, h. a., eighteen inches. Alpine Wallflower. 

This and E. Peroskianum are lovely annuals, bearing their gay 
yellow or orange flowers all summer if not allowed to go to seed. 
They are much like Wallflowers and are fragrant. 



WHO'S WHO AMONG THE ANNUALS 197 

Eschscholtzia, h. a., six to eight inches. California Poppy. 

Prettiest and gayest of annuals, with finely cut gray foliage and 
eupshaped flowers in every delectable shade of cream, orange, scar- 
let, yellow, and soft yellowy-salmon. They adore the sun and scorn 
the drought and have no bad traits of any sort. The hardy seed is 
fond of roving and makes itself comfortable in the chinks of walls 
and steps and in all sorts of seemingly unlikely places. There are 
many good varieties but none any better than the common cali- 
fornica. Sow where they are to flower. 
Godetia, h. a., one to two feet. 

Cheerful flowers, generous in bloom if given a rich, dry soil, 
plenty of air and sunshine, and room to develop. They may be 
planted out or started indoors for earlier bloom. Prettiest in rather 
large groups of one kind. Some good sorts are Lady Satin Rose, 
deep pink, one foot; Duchess of Albany, pure white, one foot; 
Sunset, dwarf carmine; Crimson King, one foot; Princess of Wales, 
Ruby-coloured pencilled with gray. 
Gypsophila, h. a., eighteen inches. Chalk Plant. 

G. elegans is very useful for cutting — somewhat resembling its 
perennial relation with cloudlike masses of small white flowers. 

G. muralis is a tiny plant only a few inches tall, looking when in 
bloom like a wee sunset cloud. We grow it here in the joints of 
steps and walls as it is too frail for the open garden. 
Helianthus, h. a., three to four feet. Sunflower. 

Some of the annual Sunflowers are very pretty, those known as 
C cucumerifolius in both single and double forms are the best. 
Any situation where the sun shines is comfortable for them. 
Iberis, h. a., four to eight inches. Candytuft. 

These are charming for edgings or for spreading patches at the 
front of the borders. The great white Empress is the handsomest, 
but the rose and lilac sorts are pretty and the little old "sweet 
scented" is always welcome. They may be planted outdoors 
where they are to grow. 
lonopsidium acaule, h. a., three inches. Violet Cress. 

A diminutive little plant with tiny pale lavender or white 
flowers, very lovely in the rockery, in the cracks between bricks or 
steps. Self-sows freely. The seed is very small and should be 
lightly pressed into the soil and not covered. 



198 MY GARDEN 

Lavatera tremestris var. rosea splendens, h. h. a., three feet. Mallow. 

This lovely Mallow loves a rich, deeply dug soil and a sunny ex- 
posure. It is a large plant requiring room to develop, so the seed- 
lings should be thinned to eighteen inches apart. Sow in April 
where it is to flower and water in dry weather. 
Leptosiphon hybridus, h. a., two to four inches. 

Gay little annuals too small and frail save for rockwork or the 
chinks of walls, steps, etc. The foliage is threadlike. It is best in 
a partially shaded situation and loves a loamy soil. Seeds should 
be shown in March and early April where they are to grow. 
Linaria, h. a., one foot. Toadflax. 

The annual Toadflaxes are pretty enough to justify a few gay 
patches along the edge of the borders. The blossoms are like small 
Snapdragons and come in pretty soft shades. 

Linum grandiflorum, h. h. a., twelve to fourteen inches. Scarlet 
Flax. 

This is a truly beautiful plant with delicate foliage and wine-red 
blossoms. It does not bloom all summer, so I like to make two 
sowings, as I do not like to be without it. It wants a sunny situa- 
tion and good soil and the seedlings should be severely thinned so as 
to induce a bushy, self-supporting growth. 
Lupinus, h. a., one to two feet. Lupine. 

These are as beautiful as the perennial varieties. The tall 
spikes of pealike flowers come in various colours — all charming. 
L. Menziesii forms a nice bush eighteen inches high and bears 
lovely yellow flowers. L. mutabilis, with pretty rose and white 
flowers, is charming, also a variety of this called CruickshanJci with 
blue, white, and yellow flowers. This grows four feet high. There 
is a lovely white sort and one called hybridus atro-coccineus with 
gay crimson flowers tipped with white that is one of the best. 

The large seeds should be planted two inches below the surface 
of the soil where they are to remain, in good soil and sunshine. In 
dry weather the plants require liberal watering. 
Marigold, h. a. 

I like everything about this plant. His grand trumpeting colour, 
his nice gig-saw foliage, his clean, pungent odour, and, most of all, 
his kindly nature. This is a plain fellow, and plain living suits him 



WHO'S WHO AMONG THE ANNUALS 199 

best, but once in a while my heart gets the better of my reason and 
I feed him up a bit, but alas, right away he loses his head and 
sprawls all over the place, his upstanding carriage gone and his 
great blossoms fit to burst. I cannot imagine a garden without 
Marigolds, from the great lemon and orange Africans to the deb- 
onair little French fellows in brown and gold which are so neat and 
tidy and shining along the edges of the borders. They may be 
started under glass or sown out of doors where they are to grow. 
Matthiola, h. h. a., eighteen to twenty-four inches. Stock, Gilly- 
flower. 

Lovely in form and foliage, colour and fragrance are the Ten 
Weeks Stocks. Next to Snapdragons I think they are the best of 
annuals for planting among perennials. There are various forms 
offered, all of which are good ; and the colours, buff, white, blush, 
pink, rose, crimson, mauve, and purple are all pretty, but my own 
choice is for double Stocks in the pale shades, white, buff, and tender 
pink. Seeds may be planted out of doors when all danger of frost 
is past, but it is more satisfactory to start them under glass and set 
the young plants out in May. 

Matthiola bicornis is the Night-scented Stock, a shy, inconspicu- 
ous little plant about a foot high, which withholds its fine perfume 
from the day but pours it forth to the night. It is pleasant to have 
a few patches of this stock about the garden for the sake of its 
sweetness. 
Nemesia, twelve to eighteen inches. 

These are charming flowers showing jewel-like colours and having 
a long period of bloom. A^. strumosa, Sutton's variety, is the finest 
strain. Blue Gem is a dwarf er sort with lovely sky-blue flowers. 
In our climate Nemesias are started in flats or frames in March to 
give them a good start ahead of dry weather. When set out in the 
garden they will need five or six inches between them, and if the 
central shoot is nipped off, a bushy, branching growth will follow. 
A rich loam with the addition of a little wood ashes is the best soil 
for them. 
Nemophila insignis, h. a., three to four inches. Love Grove. 

A truly lovely little flower, sky-blue with a shining white eye. It 
will do well anywhere in good soil, but in partial shade and soil, a 



200 MY GARDEN 

little damp, it creates a brave show indeed. For small beds and 
borders no prettier edging could be had. 
Nicotiana affinis, h. a., three feet. White Tobacco. 

Both this plant and the hybrid N. Sanderae, the flowers of which 
are in shades of soft pink, are good annuals for our dry climate and 
are striking enough to fill quite prominent places at the back of the 
border. They bloom until after hard frost. The perfume of the 
White Tobacco is very delicious at night and the tubular blossoms 
have a shimmering quality which makes them very charming in the 
moonlit garden. 
Nigella damascena, h. a., eighteen inches. Love-in-a-mist. 

Of all blue annuals this is the bluest and the quaintest, the most 
old fashioned and the prettiest. The variety named for Miss 
Jekyll is the best and bluest and will bloom all summer long if seed 
does not form. It dislikes transplanting, so should be sown where 
it is to flower and thinned out to five inches apart. It is very 
charming planted near Gypsophila paniculata. 
Papaver, h. a.. Poppy. 

These creations of heat and light, of silken gauze and crinkled 
crepe, have no peers for colour and texture in the floral kingdom. 
They are like dainty bits of finery, and as such must we use them in 
the garden, for their beauty is ephemeral and they leave sad blanks 
behind them. One could hardly give a list of the best annual 
Poppies, for they are many and all so lovely as to make choice 
difficult, but a few which seem to me particularly beautiful are: 
Charles Darwin, shades of mauve-pink, single; Danish Cross, strik- 
ing scarlet and white, single; Miss Sherwood, lovely salmon -pink 
and white, single; the Bride, pure white, single; Dainty Lady, 
pinky-mauve, single, and the lovely Shirleys, in all the finest shades 
of pink and scarlet. Besides the single sorts are various double- 
flowered Poppies, like powder puffs and globes of fringed petals. 
These are known as Carnation-flowered and Pseony-flowered and 
may be had in as lovely shades as the singles. 

It is my experience that Poppy seed should be sown as early in the 
spring as possible, in March or early in April, and it is well to choose 
a windless day as the seed is very fine and will be blown in all direc- 
tions, and it should be sown very thinly where it is to remain. 



WHO'S WHO AMONG THE ANNUALS 201 

Petunia, h. h. a. 

This has long filled a useful place in our gardens and is very pretty 
if care is used in selecting colours, for some are not good. The soft 
frilly white ones are the prettiest and are very nice along the edges 
of borders or for filling beds. Mr. Speer, in his fine book on Annuals, 
says, "Propagate the seeds by sowing on the surface of a compost 
of loam, leaf-mold, and sand in well-drained pans, in February or 
March in a temperature of 65 degrees." In late May they may be 
set out in the garden, allowing each plant plenty of room for develop- 
ment. 
Phacelia campanularia, h. a. 

This is a fine bushy little plant for the front of the border, with 
clear blue bell-shaped flowers and gray-green foliage curiously 
marked with claret. It may be sown out of doors in early spring, 
and is grateful for good garden soil and sunshine. 
Phlox Drumniondii, t. a. 

This is an invaluable plant for edging as well as for beds, and 
comes in a great number of delightful colours. We raise them in 
the frames and set out in May but they may be sown late out of 
doors if so desired. They love a sunny situation, and a rich, well- 
drained soil and a pinch of lime given to each little plant heartens 
them up greatly. If the plants are inclined to grow straggly the 
tops may be nipped off the leading shoots. They bloom all summer. 
Reseda, h. a.. Mignonette. 

No garden would deserve the name without generous plantings of 
sweet-breathed Mignonette. With us it self-sows freely, and I am 
always grateful for these gratuitous patches of sweetness wherever 
they appear in the garden. 

To have Mignonette at its best the soil should be somewhat damp, 
but it will do well enough under ordinary garden conditions. The 
seed may be sown out of doors early in April, and the young plants 
should be well thinned. Some of the good varieties are Machet, 
Golden Machet, Defiance, Parson's White, and Pyramidal. 
Salpiglossis t. a., two feet. Painted Tongue. 

The blossoms of the Salpiglossis are much like a Petunia in shape, 
but there the resemblance ends, for few flowers present such esthetic 
colour schemes — smoked pearl, soft amaranth, rose, burnished 



202 MY GARDEN 

purple, delicate buff, and all with pencillings or flushes of deeper 
colour. Being tender annuals, they are best started indoors and 
set out in late May in a sunny situation. 
Salvia. 

The scarlet Salvia is too well known to need description. Its 
colour is the most difficult to harmonize and the most recklessly 
used in the floral kingdom. Divers coloured houses rise from the 
midst of its surrounding flames, beds of it break up many a fair 
stretch of lawn, and it utterly cows and overpowers flowers of less 
strong colour in its neighbourhood. It never tempts me, neither 
Pride of Zurich, Bonfire, nor the rest, but they may easily be had by 
planting the seed indoors in February or March, or young plants 
may be purchased from any florist. The variety of Salvia hormi- 
num called Bluebeard is quite a different matter, the rich blue-pur- 
ple of its terminal bracts being long lasting and most valuable in the 
garden. The seeds are hardy and may be sown out of doors very 
early. 
Sanvitalia procumbens, h. a. 

A small, indomitable trailer, quite smothered from early July 
until frost with tiny sunflower-like blossoms. The colour is a trifle 
raw, but the whole plant is so thrifty and cheerful that one cannot 
but enjoy it. Good for edging. 
Saponaria calabrica, h. a.. Soap wort. 

This plant is as cheerfully pink as the foregoing is cheerfully 
yellow and resembles it iji its trailing habit. It resists dry weather 
very well, and where a pink edging is wanted nothing could be 
prettier. 
Scahiosa, h. a., Sweet Scabius. 

This is a popular and easily cultivated annual very nice for cut- 
ting as the pretty flower heads are borne on long stems and come 
in a large variety of charming colours, among which may be found 
maroon so dark as to be almost black, besides mauve, scarlet, pink, 
buff, white, and others. Fragrant. 
Silene pendula rosea, h. a., four to six inches. 

This is a nice little plant for edging, which, when covered with its 
bright pink blossoms, is very gay and pretty indeed. If it is wanted 
all through the summer several sowings should be made. 



WHO'S WHO AMONG THE ANNUALS 203 

Verbena. 

These are best started indoors and set in their permanent places 
in May. They come in several nice colours, the salmon-pink being 
particularly pretty. If the branches are pegged down with wire 
hairpins when they begin to "run," they will cover the ground 
closely and bloom until killed by frost. Verbenas like a rich soil 
and full Sim and will thrive where many a more thirsty plant will 
fail. 
Zinnia, h. h. a., eighteen inches to two feet. Youth and Old Age. 

These are so often bought "mixed" and present so garish an 
appearance that many people are ignorant of the really fine effects 
to be gotten from seeds obtained in separate colours and planted in 
harmonious groups. The blossoms have a curious lustreless quality 
to their colours which is rather attractive and run into all sorts of 
off shades which are useful. There is a pretty ashen pink sort, a 
good bronzy yellow, a soft cream, a fine salmon, and a rich, dark red. 
Plain food and full sun is all they require. 
The Everlastings. 

One summer I tried in the nursery a number of these annual 
flowers, which, on account of their strawlike texture and keeping 
qualities, are called "everlasting." Many of them are quite pretty 
enough for garden decoration even though one does not care for 
the stiff bouquets for winter use. I am fond of these old-fashioned 
posies and like always to have a few. The colours remain almost 
undimmed if the flowers are gathered just before they are fully 
expanded and hung head downward in a dry cool place. I remem- 
ber, when a little girl in Baltimore, that in the open-air markets for 
which that city is justly famous there were always several stalls 
devoted to the sale of Everlasting decorations. Many of these 
were funeral wreathes and crosses, but others were the gayest of 
elaborately arranged bouquets for the mantelpiece or centre table. 

Helichrysum is the Immortelle of the French, the favourite flower 
for memorial emblems. It is very pretty indeed, being globular 
in form with crisp, incurving petals. It comes in various colours, 
scarlet, salmon, russet, yellow, and a good white called Silver Queen. 
They self-sow in our garden so we are sure of one winter bouquet at 
least. 



204 MY GARDEN 

Acroclinium is a half -hardy annual growing about two and a half 
feet tall bearing starlike flowers about an inch across in soft rose- 
lilac or white and with grayish foliage. The winged Everlasting, 
Ammohium alatum, has small white flowers with a yellow centre 
and is very quaint and pretty. It is a hardy annual which blooms 
all summer long. Gnaphalium foetidum is also a hardy annual 
and much like the foregoing save as to colour which is yellow. 
Helipterum is yellow and in shape like the Helichrysums, but it 
loses its nice golden colour when dried and becomes rather a dull 
green. 

The Rhodanthes are extremely pretty with their pink blossoms 
pendent upon slender stems. R. Manglesii, called the Swan River 
Everlasting, has charming rose-coloured rosettes with yellow cen- 
tres. The foliage of these plants is broad and pleasant and they 
grow about fourteen inches high. They do not like to be moved, 
but as they are very tender must either be started indoors and 
transplanted with a ball of earth, or sown out of doors in May 
where they are to remain. 

The double flowers of Xeranthemum annuxim are particularly old- 
fashioned looking and rather sombre in their violet and purple 
colouring. They grow about two feet tall and may be sown out 
of doors in April. The Globe Amaranthe with its round, frankly 
magenta blooms is one of my favourites. It blooms all summer 
long and the bunches of bright coloured flowers are very cheery 
when the long white days are upon us. It may be sown out of 
doors after danger from frost is past. The Everlastings are very 
attractive grown in association with the annual and perennial 
grasses. 



CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

SHRUBS 

"Shrubs there are, 
. . . that at the call of spring 
Burst forth in blossomed fragrance." 

— Thomson's Seasons. 

THE uses of shrubs are manifold and diverse. In- 
valuable as screens to hide unsightly objects, 
lovely to shroud and soften the hard line be- 
tween house and ground, useful as an underplanting to 
tall trees, as a background to herbaceous borders, as 
hedges, windbreaks, or as an edging to walks and drives. 
These are but a few of the ways in which they will help 
us in our gardening, and when we remember that our 
climate is particularly adapted to the fine development 
of shrubs the wonder is that we do not see them more 
and better grown. 

For myself, I do not care for what is called the 
" mixed shrubbery." Too often it is made up of a large 
variety of kinds so tightly packed that the efforts of the 
plants are expended mainly in a struggle for mere exist- 
ence and the gracious, sweeping outlines, of which this 
class of plants is capable, are quite lacking. A shrub- 
bery border is indeed desirable in many situations, but I 

205 



206 MY GARDEN 

feel that it should be much simpler in its construction 
than is usually the case — large groups of a few kinds 
chosen for their suitability to be neighbours and blend- 
ing irregularly one into the other, each shrub being given 
ample room to develop, even though the border must 
look a trifle bare for a season or two. Occasionally 
evergreens are a grateful change in the shrubbery bor- 
der, and underplanting along the front is very desirable. 
A few low-growing subjects suitable for this purpose are: 

Hypericum calycinum, one foot. 

" Moserianiim, twelve to eighteen inches. 

Jasminum nudiflorum. Naked Jasmine. (Trailing.) 
Vinca minor, eight inches. 
Daphne Cneorum, one foot. 

" Mezereum, two and a half feet. 
Euonymus radicans, one and a half feet. 
Cotoneaster horizontalis. (Trailing.) 

" Simonsii. 

Berberis Thunbergii, two to three feet. 
Ivy. (Prostrate.) 
Azalea amoena, three feet. 
Gaultheria procumbens — creeping. 
Andromeda floribunda. 

" polifolia, one foot. 

Colonies of spring-flowering bulbs are charming 
scattered beneath and in front of the shrubs, and many 
gay pictures may be created with their aid. 

This class of plants is not as a rule peremptory in its 
cultural demands, and for this reason we have fallen into 
the way of imposing upon their kindly nature and stick- 
ing them into a shallow hole in any sort of soil and situ- 



SHRUBS 207 

ation, whether conducive to the health of the plant or 
not, and then feeling quite put out when the poor shrub 
fails to come up to our glowing expectations. 

Shrubs appreciate a broad and deep hole, with the 
soil at the bottom well broken up. It should be broad 
enough to admit of the roots being spread out comfort- 
ably, and deep enough to enable us to set the shrub at 
least two inches deeper than it was before — which may 
usually be determined by the soil-mark upon the stem. 
The shrub should be set firmly in the ground and the 
earth well pressed down as it is filled in. A pail of 
water poured into the hole when partially filled settles 
the earth around the shoots thoroughly. As little delay 
as possible in planting should follow the arrival of an 
order of shrubs, and if the consignment is large the roots 
of those waiting for attention should be covered with 
damp burlap, and if very dry may be dipped in water be- 
fore planting. They may be set out either in spring or 
fall. 

Mr. George Gordon in his "Book of Shrubs" warns us 
against a practice to which we are all too prone — that of 
buying very large specimens in order to secure an im- 
mediate effect. He says: "Unless the circumstances 
are quite exceptional and the nursery is within a few 
miles of the garden, plants of medium size should be 
preferred to those which have attained to large dimen- 
sions. The latter are costly because of the large amount 
expended in labour upon their preparation by the 



208 MY GARDEN 

nurseryman, and they are much more diflScult to estab- 
lish. Sometimes with considerable care they die in the 
summer after they are planted. In other cases they are 
so slow in becoming established that they make little 
growth for two or three years, and when they readily 
take to their new quarters, it is not unusual for them to 
be overtaken by plants several years younger at the 
time of planting." Mr. Gordon recommends plants 
offered at "the usual catalogue prices" as best for 
general purposes. Perhaps the most appreciated shrubs 
are those which come in the early year before the snow 
feeling has quite vanished from the air, and those are 
important, too, in the effect of the garden, for with only 
bulbs and creeping things, such as mainly decorate the 
spring, the shrubs and flowering trees are needed to 
carry our colour higher up. 

The first to bloom behind our garden walls in a 
sheltered south border is the Mezereon {Daphne mez- 
ereum), which before a leaf is thought of, often in late 
February, has wrapped its stiff little branches in a fra- 
grant purple scarf or somewhat less effectively in a 
white one. It is a dwarf and succeeds best in a light, 
well-drained soil made rich with old cow manure, and it 
will grow in partial shade. The first mild days cause 
the tiny crowded blossoms to open, and often in Novem- 
ber there will be another less hearty but very welcome 
flowering. 

Another very early comer is the Twin-flowered Honey- 



SHRUBS 209 

suckle, Lonieera fragrantissima, and besides decorating 
its brown branches in every direction with pairs of 
creamy blossoms, it floods the cold spring garden with a 
most delicious fragrance. It is an erect-growing, semi- 
evergreen shrub, reaching a height of about six feet, and 
will grow almost anywhere, but in a sunny sheltered 
spot it blooms earlier than in exposed places. Others of 
its family well worth growing and which flower much 
later in the year are L. Standishii and Maackii. 

Often, as early as the middle of March, the Forsy- 
thias hang out their yellow lamps, casting a pale radi- 
ance for the Crocuses to get up by. There are several 
different sorts, all bearing the same yellow bells, but 
showing differences in their manner of growth. For- 
sythia suspensa has long drooping branches, and this is 
the best sort for training against a wall, or for planting 
in groups in half-wild places where it will have plenty of 
room to trail its branches without interfering with its 
neighbours. F. intermedia is a fine form of robust habit, 
more erect than suspensa, while F. viridissima is the 
strongest growing and most erect of all but with less 
fine flowers than the other two. These shrubs grown in 
masses constitute one of the joys of spring. In the 
garden I have a group of three in a wide border, one with 
its branches trained against the wall, the other two in 
front of it. They have an underplanting of pale Crocus 
biflorus, which is very charming in the soft light of the 
yellow Forsythias. 



210 MY GARDEN 

Hurriedly slipping on her clothes, also by this soft 
effulgence, is that baby of the great Spiraea family, S. 
Thunbergiiy a fluffy, appealing mite, seldom growing 
more than a yard high and covering itself in early spring 
with a smother of tiny white flowers and reddish leaves. 
This is a pretty shrub to grow in front of Forsythias, 
with drifts of purple and white and yellow Crocuses 
around and beneath it. 

The beauty of Magnolias in early spring is well known 
to most garden lovers. The great M. Yulan and the 
purple-stained M. Soulangeana are spoken of in the 
chapter on flowering trees, but snowy M. stellata has a 
place among the earliest shrubs of the year. It is sel- 
dom seen more than four feet high, but blooms at so 
early an age and presents so solid a mass of gleaming 
whiteness that it frequently looks like a forgotten snow- 
drift lying upon the wet brown earth or the freshening 
grass. The fragrant flowers are composed of about a 
dozen strap-shaped petals, loosely grouped, and the 
leaves do not appear until after the blossoms are past. 
This Magnolia, like most of its kin, is best suited with a 
rich, porous soil, and if it may be protected from the 
rowdy gales of the young year by wall or taller shrubs, 
it is grateful. 

Pyrus or Cydonia Japonica (Chenomaler) , which blooms 
in early April, is one of the most brilliantly effective shrubs 
of the entire year. The gay scarlet flowers cling along the 
crooked, thorny bushes most artistically, and in spite of 



SHRUBS 211 

its being what we call "common," should be found in 
every garden. There are pink and blush sorts and a 
variety called Maulei, which has some orange in its 
scarlet colour. Against our garden wall the ordinary 
scarlet sort creates a fine picture with bright-pink early 
Tulips trailing down the border from its prickly skirts. 

Before spring has got very far along her flowery path 
other members of the Spiraea tribe begin to deck them- 
selves in festal array. S. prunifoUa, fl. pL, with long, 
wandlike branches lined with white buttonlike flowers, 
is early to bloom, and S. arguta is another lovely early- 
blooming sort. S. Van Houttei is a well-known and 
splendid sort which blooms in early May, and is followed 
through the season by other kinds, all worth having 
in a large collection — Reevesii — white, May. Bumalda — 
dwarf — pink, July. Anthony Waterer, magenta, afl 
summer; and others. 

Daffodils and early Tulips are charming peeping from 
beneath the snowy draperies of the early-flowering 
Spiraeas, and groups of the noble Crown Imperial are 
very handsome in the neighbourhood of S. prunifolia. 

Toward the end of April Ribes aureum, the Flowering 
Currant of old gardens, begins to shake out its small 
yellow blossoms, the perfume of which seeks us out at a 
great distance. This is not a shrub of high degree, but a 
sweet old-fashioned thing that one likes to tuck away in 
all sorts of places for the sake of its perfume, particularly 
under one's windows. It does well anywhere, even in 



212 MY GARDEN 

shade. There are other varieties, sanguineum and 
atrosanguineum with reddish flowers, but I have had 
only the common sort. 

The Kerrias, both single and double, are at their 
height about the first of May. I rather prefer the single 
sort, but both are fine and golden in their bloom, which 
thickly clothes the slender light-green branches. These 
plants are said to prefer a damp soil, but I have not 
found them fastidious, and save that they are sometimes 
nipped by late spring frosts are most easily managed. 

Lovely indeed, just now, is Prunus triloba, fl. pl.^ a 
shrubby member of the plum family, which wreathes it- 
self from top to bottom with gay pink rosettes resem- 
bling but larger than those affected by the Flowering 
Almond. We have two great bushes of Prunus triloba 
in front of the garden-house porch with a fine clump of 
gray-white Florentine Iris and some cherry-coloured 
Tulips Pride of Haarlem as its neighbours. 

The gay little Flowering Almond, in both its pink and 
its white manifestation, is in full regalia at this season. 
Ours are growing against a group of Purple Leaved 
Plums, in a border where Bleeding Hearts and pink and 
white Cottage Tulips complete a delightful picture. 

Soon come Lilacs, "in snow-white innocence or purple 
pride," and how glad we are to see them! Surely it is 
the favourite shrub. Here we have fine old bushes, tall 
enough to shake their scented plumes into the second- 
story windows. And all about the countryside are 



SHRUBS 213 

magnificent specimens, many of them keeping guard, 
with the striped grass and orange Day LiHes, over the 
charred or crumbHng ruins of what was once a cherished 
home. 

Even after making the acquaintance of many of the 
splendid new varieties, so truly fine in colour and form, 
my foolish heart clings to the old-fashioned single purple 
and white, for no flower seems to me to so truly express 
the fulness of the spring. But I am planting all sorts 
and feel that we cannot have too many. Some of the best 
of the new sorts are Charles X, a stirring reddish purple ; 
Marie Legraye and Madam Casimir-Perier, splendid 
single and double whites; Madam Lemoine, double 
cream; Souv. de Louis Spath, pinkish mauve; Pres. 
Carnot, double lavender; Pres. Grevy, bluish-lavender; 
Grand Due Constantin, ashy-lilac, double. 

It is well, if possible, to procure these new Lilacs on 
their own roots, as suckers from the budded sorts cause 
much trouble and if not carefully removed will soon kill 
out our rare variety. 

Few shrubs are lovelier than the old Persian Lilac, in 
both its lilac and white varieties. It is more slender in 
all its parts than the other Lilacs and bears its great loose 
panicles of bloom from top to bottom. 

There are other sorts of Lilacs that one might also 
grow. The Rouen Lilac is lovely, and Syringa Japonica, 
of treelike form, leathery leaves, and creamy blossoms 
that come after other Lilacs are past, is said to be 



214 MY GARDEN 

fine. I have had a bush of the Hungarian Lilac (S. 
Josikaea) in the garden for several years, but it seems 
most deliberate and has not yet bloomed. 

Lilacs love a rich soil and a spot not too dry, and they 
seem to like to grow close to a house, where the drip 
from the eaves finds its way to their thirsty roots, or 
perhaps the sympathy and companionship of human 
beings answers to some need of its nature, for surely 
Lilacs are never so fine as when growing close to a dwell- 
ing. To prune Lilacs is to do them grievous harm. I 
have known them sulk, or perhaps mourn, for years 
after a smart trimming, not giving a single bloom. The 
faded flowers are best cut away, but the branches may be 
left to themselves. 

Besides the beloved Lilacs May has great wealth in 
the way of flowering shrubs. The Deutzias are a useful 
and deserving race, which will thrive lustily if given 
tolerable conditions. There are numerous varieties, but 
the family is well represented by D. crenata fl. pL, 
Pride of Rochester, double white flowers; Crenata rosea, 
double pink; Lemoinei, a sturdy dwarf shrub of up- 
standing habit, producing pure-white flowers, and graci- 
lis, a smaH fluffy -flowered thing of great beauty. 

Exochorda grandiflora, the Pearl Bush, is one of the 
prettiest of flowering shrubs, though not often seen. 
Its snowy, inch-broad blossoms appear in great profusion 
with the leaves, and a well-grown specimen may be eight 
feet high and as many through. It delights in rich soil 



SHRUBS 215 

and some protection from the wind, and to be seen at its 
best should be given plenty of room for development. 

Another good white-flowered shrub is Rhodotypos 
Kerrioides, which has much the appearance of a single 
white Kerria. The foliage is large and handsome and 
the gleaming blossoms are followed in autumn by dark 
coloured berries. It grows about six feet tall, is reason- 
able about soil, and belongs to the early days of the 
month. 

The Mock Oranges (Philadelphus) are only a bit be- 
hind the Lilacs in our affections. The old P. coronarius 
is perhaps in some danger of being superseded by the 
beautiful new hybrids, which have been placed at our 
disposal, but they all have the same charm of creamy 
bloom, delicious fragrance, and good foliage. Save for 
P. microphyllus, which is a dwarf of the most engaging 
type, the Mock Oranges are tall-growing shrubs. The 
best of the new varieties are Avalanche, Boule d'Argent, 
Fantaisie, Mont Blanc, and Gerbe de Neige. There is 
a yellow-leaved form of coronarius which is a much 
better shrub than many other yellow-leaved things, and 
often very useful in lighting up a shadowy corner. 
These shrubs will grow in shade, if necessary, but they 
dislike being crowded and will bloom well only when 
given plenty of space. They bloom upon the wood of 
the previous season, so if this is cut away the result is 
obvious. 

Weigelas belong to May and are very hardy and use- 



216 MY GARDEN 

ful shrubs, but somehow they awaken Httle enthusiasm 
in my soul. The white-flowered sorts, Candida and 
Dame Blanche, are the prettiest, I think; but the pink- 
flowered varieties enjoy much favour. Eve Rathke 
blooms quite late and bears very handsome claret- 
coloured flowers; Abel Carriere is a good bright rose; 
Esperance, pale salmon, and Fleur de Mai, purplish- 
pink, flower earlier than the rest ; and there are also La 
Perle, a pretty blush- colour, and Saturn, very nearly 
carmine. Little pruning is required, save to keep the 
sturdy bushes free from old and useless wood, and they 
succeed well in almost any situation. 

A shrub familiar to most garden-bred folk is the old 
Snowball tree. Viburnum opulus var. sterilis. Great 
bushes of it were in the garden where I grew up and we 
called it " Summer snowball" and not infrequently used it 
as such. It will grow eight feet high and almost as thick 
through, the long branches bending under the weight of 
the heavy blooms. The bushes grow thickly in a rich 
soil and require an annual thinning out of old wood. 

With the opening summer comes the lovely Rose 
Acacia {Robinia hispida) drooping its long branches, 
hung with rosy pea-shaped blossoms, among the fresh 
young leafage. I do not often see this charming shrub 
in handsome gardens, but I know of many humble door 
yards that boast its high-bred beauty, but where it ever 
has an alien look, seeming to belong to higher walks of 
life. The Rose Acacia is of rapid growth and becomes 



SHRUBS 217 

an ornament while more deliberate shrubs are making 
up their minds to grow. On account of its drooping, 
spreading habit it requires room to adequately display 
its charms. In Mr. E. T. Cook's book, "Trees and 
Shrubs for English Gardens," he says, "The Rose 
Acacia (Robinia hispida), trained on a wall or house, is 
as beautiful as any Wisteria, and the quality of the low- 
toned rosy bloom of a much rarer colour. It is quite 
hardy, but so brittle that it needs close and careful wall 
training or other support." 

With the arrival of summer the great array of flower- 
ing shrubs becomes noticeably depleted, but we do not 
feel their loss so much as the herbaceous borders are 
rapidly filling with tall and splendid tenants. But 
there are still a few, the old-fashioned Sweet Shrub 
(Calycanthus fioridus) , with its hard little brown blos- 
soms of memory-stirring fragrance, so valuable to 
children for tying tightly in the corner of a handkerchief 
for the refreshment of the nose. Some people lose their 
fancy for the fragrance of these little brown blossoms 
when they acquire a taste for spotless handkerchiefs and 
perfumes in bottles, but I do not lose my love for it. 
One whiff of the spicy, exhilarating odour, and open flies 
the gate long closed upon a joyous childhood, and with 
the brown talisman tightly held within my palm I am 
free to pass through into a land of perpetual revels, 
where all wonders are possible and where faith in life 
and its great promises is as firm as the walls which guard 



218 MY GARDEN 

the garden. I like to see my children tying the Caly- 
canthus blossoms in their grimy little handkerchiefs, for 
I feel sure they will one day be as glad as I for a pass- 
port which will admit them once more to the sheltered 
garden of their childhood. 

Friend Althaea is about the most accommodating 
shrub of my acquaintance. Even life in a city back- 
yard, where it is peppered with dust and soot and where 
the air it breathes is far from pure, does not alter its de- 
termination to grow and be beautiful. I like the single 
Althaeas best, but the doubles are pretty enough, and 
generally preferred. The colours go from white to deep 
rose and maroon, and there are some nice purplish and 
lilac shades which are particularly effective against stone 
walls or gray stucco houses. Hibiscus syriacus is its 
proper name, and it is also called Rose of Sharon. The 
trees are strong and woody, and reach a height of ten feet. 

Another shrub of mid-summer and early fall is the 
Hardy Hydrangea, which, in a small garden, is rather 
like the proverbial bull in a China shop, clumsy and un- 
manageable, owing to the great size of its blossoms, 
which are out of scale with the bush and with most 
things in its vicinity. It is, in the language of the cat- 
alogues, "a grand specimen shrub," and as such it is too 
frequently used to the desecration of what would other- 
wise be a pleasant lawn. Massed against tall ever- 
greens or sweeping along a driveway the Hardy Hy- 
drangea acquires a certain dignity and power, and to my 



SHRUBS 219 

mind it is only in such bold planting in wide places that 
it should be used. Hydrangea paniculata and its var. 
grandifiora are the best and hardiest kinds. They will 
reach a height of about six feet, and in the autumn the 
blossoms turn a fine reddish colour, and may be brought 
indoors for winter decoration. The shrub should be 
severely pruned in early spring, one-half its growth cut 
back to insure a symmetrical form and countless heavy- 
headed blossoms. 

Most of the Buddleias are too tender for the rigours of 
our winters, those best for our gardens are all varieties 
of B. Davidii and are known under various names like 
Veitchiana, more robust than the type, and B. varia- 
bilis^ etc. These may be counted upon to come through 
a severe winter unscathed as far north as Boston. 
These shrubs grow into fair-sized bushes with wand- 
like, drooping branches, bearing flowers not unlike the 
lilac in form and of a charming rosy-lilac shade. The 
blooms form on the new wood, and the bushes require 
cutting back in very early spring (March) to within two 
or three eyes of the old wood. They are best planted in 
spring, so that they may become well established before 
the strain of winter. 

When autumn arrives we cease to expect flowers from 
our shrubs and are grateful to those with colouring 
leaves and gay fruit. The Sumachs give superb 
colour, their ruddy plumes in fine harmony with the 
scarlet of their foliage. The Smoke tree, Rhus Cotinus, 



220 MY GARDEN 

is one of the finest of the Sumachs. It grows into a tall, 
full shrub, or small tree, with bright, light-green leaves. 
The purple flowers in summer are not very conspicuous, 
but later become what the botanists call "exceedingly 
plumose," giving the tree the appearance of a huge puff 
of brown smoke. R. typhina laciniata, the Cut-leaved, 
Staghorn Sumach, is a beautiful sort, with delicate 
foliage, which turns magnificently in the fall and bears, 
besides, great clusters of dark crimson fruit. 

Barberries I have not before mentioned, for while they 
flower early the pendent fruit that is the chief of their 
charms does not come until the autumn. The common 
Barberry B. vulgaris, so intimate a feature of the New 
England landscape, but not native to it, having been 
introduced from Europe many years ago, is a good sort, 
with small yellow flowers in spring and dangling, bril- 
liantly scarlet berries in the autumn. The purple- 
leaved lisirhevTy,B. vulgaris var. purpurea, is a tall-grow- 
ing shrub of splendid colour. Best known of the family 
is, perhaps, B. Thunbergii, the small, thorny shrub so 
much used for low hedges. Its foliage colours richly, 
and in winter the scarlet fruit dances gayly in the wind 
above the snow-shrouded garden. 

Many of the Elders, Sambucus, are fine in the late 
months of the year, turning a soft yellow and bearing 
ornamental fruits. The common Elder, S. canadensis, is 
a good shrub and bears dark reddish-purple berries. S. 
nigra var. aurea has yellow leaves and flat clusters of 



SHRUBS 221 

bluish-white berries. S. maxima var. pubescens bears 
large flower clusters in the late summer, which are fol- 
lowed by red berries. 

Viburnums also are gay fruited. V. Opulus has red 
berries; lantana has red berries that finally turn dark; 
dentatum has rich blue-black fruit, and the Maple- 
leaved Viburnum, which grows wild in our mountains, 
also has clusters of dark-coloured berries. 

The old-fashioned Snowberry peeps through most of 
the tumbledown fences in our neighbourhood, and we 
have a fine group at our own front fence. The shrub 
grows about five feet high and has small leaves, tiny pink 
flowers, beloved of bees, which are followed by large, 
gleaming white berries. The appalling name of this 
simple old friend is Symphoricarpus racemosiis. It 
spreads quickly, and is a good shrub of medium height. 

Besides these gay-leaved, bright-fruited shrubs there 
are many others, too numerous for inclusion in a short 
chapter, but they may be found among the Dogwoods. 
Euonymuses, Hawthorns, Crabs, Plums, Andromedas, 
Roses, Alders, and others. 

Pruning. One needs to be wary of the knife where 
shrubs are concerned. Constantly I see them lopped 
and mangled into the most pitiful semblance of their 
former graceful state, the ignorant butcher seemingly 
unaware or unmindful of the fact that he has cut off the 
greater part of the spring's store of blossoms. Some 
gardeners seem to have a perfect mania for pruning — 



MY GARDEN 

really it is not safe to leave the knife within their reach, 
for once launched upon a pruning orgy they are seem- 
ingly insane and cut and slash with horrid joy — just one 
more bud-laden twig, just one more branch of promise — 
until where is the gracious, long-limbed shrub of a 
moment ago? Quite gone, and in its place a stubby, 
shame-faced, denuded thing, already suffering pangs of 
mortification over the barrenness she knows must be 
hers in the coming season of bloom and fruitfulness. 

It is better not to prune at all until one knows one's 
shrubs pretty thoroughly: when they bloom, and if they 
are vigorous or delicate. 

Mr. E. T. Cook says : " Many shrubs which have been 
in one place for some years, and have become stunted or 
poorly flowered, are often given a new lease of life by a 
hard pruning in winter, cutting away all the old wood 
entirely and shortening the remainder. With a good 
feeding at the same time, they will throw up strong 
young shoots, full of vigour, which will bear fine and well- 
coloured flowers." Mr. Cook also says that when a cut 
is made it should be accomplished with a sharp instru- 
ment, clean and slanting toward a bud. 

Most flowering shrubs need little or no pruning, save 
the removal of old and useless wood, but if pruning is 
considered desirable it is essential to know whether the 
flowers are borne upon the old or upon the new wood, so 
that we shall not cause ourselves, as well as the poor 
shrub, the sorrow of a flowerless season. 



CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

FLOWERING TREES IN THE BORDERS 

"No Man so callous but he heaves a sigh 
When o 'er his head the withered cherry blossoms 
Come fluttering down." 

— Korumushi. 

IT SEEMS not to be the pleasant custom nowadays 
in our country to plant trees in the flower borders. 
In gardens of the old world one comes frequently 
upon a spreading tree rising from a tangle of gay flowers 
in even quite narrow borders, casting a cool shadow 
across the sunny path. Sometimes it is a sombre black- 
shadowed Yew, often a gnarled and twisted apple or 
pear, or some rare exotic; but, whatever it is, the garden 
assumes an added grace, a more interesting aspect from 
its presence. 

Certainly much of the charm of the trim Box-bor- 
dered gardens of our grandmothers may be attributed to 
the fruit trees which marched up and down the straight 
paths creating sweet shadowy interludes in the sunny 
expanse, sifting their fragrant petals like snow among 
the Daffodils and spry Ladies' Delights, and later hang- 
ing out their scarlet or yellow fruit in rich harmony with 
the Tiger Lilies, Marigolds, and "gilded Sunflowers." 



224 MY GARDEN 

These old gardens haunt one's memory as having pos- 
sessed "atmosphere" and a wealth of interest not al- 
ways present in modern gardens, augmented, as they 
are, with rarer flowers and all the modern inventions of 
the gardener's art. 

Many a garden would be redeemed from the common- 
place by the presence of a few graceful trees. They 
would relieve the tiresome flatness of its surface and lend 
the agreeable variety of light and shade which gives 
depth and meaning to its brilliance and subtlety to its 
beauty, without which no composition is wholly satis- 
fying. A garden should hold out a perpetual invitation, 
but this the merely sunny garden never does during the 
heat of summer days, whereas, that with comfortable 
seats in shady corners ever tempts us to linger. It has 
the pleasant livable quality which is as desirable in a 
garden as in a room. 

I do not speak for great Elms, Maples, and Oaks within 
the garden enclosure. They, indeed, would rob the soil, 
and cast a far too heavy shade. But there are beautiful 
flowering trees, picturesque in outline and so lightly 
made as to cast only such shadow as many a plant is 
grateful to receive. They rob the border to no greater 
extent than we can easily repair by the addition of a 
little extra fertilizer. 

In spring these flowering trees are particularly valu- 
able in the garden, because the great array of flowering 
bulbs and other early spring flowers are so low growing 



FLOWERING TREES 225 

that our colour is, of necessity, put on too flat, and so we 
are grateful to the trees which carry the colour higher 
up and fling their bloom-wrapped branches, like silken 
scarves, high against the garden wall. Lured by the 
trees birds will make their homes within our garden en- 
closure, giving their songs and the vivid interest of their 
lives for our edification. And, more than this, they 
will be our able coadjutors in ridding the garden of the 
vicious cutworm and a grievous horde of evildoers. 

There are many sorts of flowering trees but none so 
lovely as the flowering fruit trees, and of these, perhaps 
by virtue of its age and the great respect with which it 
has been regarded from earliest times, the Apple should 
claim our first consideration for, says Harriet Keeler, 
*' When man emerges into history, he has an apple in his 
hand and the dog by his side." 

Crabapples are best suited for use in the limited space 
of the flower garden, and there are numerous fine vari- 
eties. None is more beautiful than Pyrus floribunda, 
the grace and brilliance of which is not easily sur- 
passed — scarlet in bud, deep pink in blossom, each 
slightly drooping branch literally wrapped in enchanting 
colour. Here, in the angle of the high stone wall, it is 
usually in full regalia by April 24th, and along the 
borders its colour is deliciously repeated by pink and 
cherry- coloured early Tulips growing in little groups 
through mats of white Arais. In time it reaches a 
height of twelve feet, but blossoms when quite small. I 



226 MY GARDEN 

have a variety called Scheideckeri with larger flow- 
ers of paler colour but otherwise similar to the 
foregoing. Very charming as a neighbour for P. flori- 
hunda is the Siberian Crab, P. baccata, bearing pure- 
white flowers. P. coronaria, the American Sweet 
Scented Crab, grows rapidly into a picturesque tree al- 
most thirty feet high and clothes itself with large single 
pale pink blossoms with the fragrance of violets. Ex- 
quisite, also, and attaining about the same height, is P. 
spedabilis with great clusters of blush-pink, semi-double 
blossoms. Perhaps the treasure of the family is 
Bechtel's Double Flowered American Crab,* the latest to 
bloom in this garden. It makes a nice, symmetrical 
little tree, and after the leaves have accomplished their 
pale young growth come myriads of pink double blos- 
soms like little Daily Roses that have the Sweet Violet 
fragrance. Near this tree we enjoy a group of gray- 
white Florentine Iris and a gay colony of bright cherry- 
coloured Tulip Pride of Haarlem. 

The Crabs root deeply and enjoy a warm, dry soil, 
well prepared to a considerable depth, so that the garden 
borders suit them well. They are very hardy, not 
nearly so deliberate in their growth as their feUows of the 
orchard, and forming very nice-sized trees in a few years. 

Blooming in April and May, many bulbs are at hand 
to flower with great effect beneath their spreading 
branches: the paler-coloured Daffodils, Poet's Narcis- 

*Pyrus ioensis. 



FLOWERING TREES 227 

sus, and a host of pink, white, and buff-coloured Tuhps. 
Beside these the earhest of the May Irises and all the 
pretty creeping plants of the season enable us to ac- 
complish many charming pictures, and in the autumn 
the small highly coloured fruits, profusely borne, again 
bring these trees into important requisition as colour 
factors. 

The word Prunus covers a multitude of delights: 
Peaches, Cherries, and Plums of a diversity and loveli- 
ness quite undreamed save by those who have set out to 
know them in all their great variety. If one needs to 
make a choice perhaps the Cherries would come first, for 
there is nothing quite like the pure perfection of Cherry 
blossoms — not the chill whiteness of Pear blossoms with 
their strange cloying perfume, but a quality of purity all 
their own, glistening, youthful, with no hint of cold 
aloofness. They fill the mind and satisfy the soul, and, 
spreading their white shade above the troops of golden 
Daffodils, fill the garden with an enchanting radiance. 
All the Cherries are bewitching; even the Japanese 
Weeping Cherry, Cerasus pendula, is so exquisite in its 
grief that one finds it possible for once to tolerate a tear- 
ful tree. Cerasus avium var. multiplex, enveloped in 
snow-white bloom, is thought by many to be the queen 
of flowering trees, but there are so many treasures how 
can one decide .^^ This tree is perhaps too vigorous for 
small gardens, for it reaches a height of forty feet; but if 
there is room for it there is nothing lovelier. It blooms 



228 MY GARDEN 

at the same time as the orchard Cherries, of which it is a 
development, with great loose clusters of pure-white 
double flowers. Cerasus Pseudo-cerasus, known also as 
C. Watereri and C. Sieholdii, is an exquisite form of the 
Japanese Rose Flowered Cherry, and this, with the other 
double rose-flowered form, James H. Veitch and the 
lovely pure-white, double-flowered Chinese Cherry, C. 
serrulata, are the best for planting in the flower borders. 
These are the trees the blossoming of which is the occa- 
sion in Japan for holidays and festivals in which all 
classes take part. It seems a sane and lovely custom 
and one that western nations might do well to follow, 
but, imagine, if you can, the American man of business 
and affairs making a holiday and going afield, lunch- 
basket in hand, because the land is full of apple blos- 
soms, "their breath upon the breeze." Noses are held 
too closely to the grindstone for the sweet perfume to 
reach them, and too many there are who let pass un- 
noticed these rare "blue days," musical with the 
ecstatic songs of mating birds and cloudy with the mist 
of blossoming trees. 

Cherries enjoy the deep, well-drained loam of the 
garden borders, and they love a sunny situation. Lime 
in some form is important to their well-being, and they 
respond gratefully if given a dose at least once a year. 

Here, in the frost-bound north, the impetuosity with 
which the Peach trees burst into bloom, in defiance of 
threatening winds and cold, endears them to us. In- 



FLOWERING TREES 229 

deed, so reckless are they in responding to the "double- 
faced" smiles of cunning April, who comes acourting, 
that their beauty is sometimes spoiled, and one must 
wait a whole year to enjoy the breathless moment when 
the Peach trees are a pink enchantment above a shadow 
of purple Crocuses. 

What the Apple tree is to New England the Peach is 
to the Middle and Southern States. Every negro hut 
boasts its glorifying Peach tree, every trim homestead 
its Peach orchard, and I remember, when a little girl in 
Baltimore, that so many of the backyards had Peach 
trees that it was quite a delight to walk along the side 
streets in early spring and peep through the iron railings 
or over the queer board fences at the great bouquets 
within. On the mountains of Maryland are the most 
beautiful Peach orchards imaginable, and one does not 
easily forget the experience of having seen one lying in 
flushed ecstasy within the curving embrace of a rugged 
mountain road. 

The double-flowered Peaches are even lovelier than 
those of the orchards, the pink or white rosette-like 
blossoms clinging densely along the naked branches. 
We have a variety known as the Blood-leaved Peach 
with tiny blossoms and reddish-purple foliage, but it is 
not so good a tree as Prunus Pissardii, the purple-leaved 
Plum, and shares, with all the Peaches, the fault of 
losing its leaves too early in the fall. Peach trees, too, 
are not so good in form as the Cherries, Plums, and 



230 MY GARDEN 

Crabs, but one willingly gives them space for the delight 
of their short spring rapture. 

Prunus triloba, which is not, correctly speaking, a 
tree, and P. Pissardii, the purple-leaved Plum, are the 
only representatives of the Plum family of my acquaint- 
ance. The first, P. triloba, the Rosette Plum, is 
shrublike in growth, and wreathes its leafless branches 
in double bright pink blossoms somewhat resembling 
but much larger than those of the Flowering Almond. 
It is said to bloom best when well pruned just after 
flowering, but I tried this with most disappointing re- 
sults; whereas, when left alone, it was a veritable 
bouquet. 

Prunus Pissardii, with its wine-coloured foliage, is a 
splendid tree. Its small single blossoms are so delicate 
as to seem like mist against the garden wall, and I can- 
not but feel that the double-flowered form, Moserifl. pL, 
must lose much of grace and endearing frailty in the 
doubling of its petals. The rich foliage of the tree 
makes it prominent in the garden all during the season, 
and nothing is pleasanter in its neighbourhood than 
flowers in the various pink shades. We begin with 
Flowering Almonds pressed close against it and a trail of 
pink Tulips followed by Bleeding Hearts, Pseonies, 
Hybrid Pyrethrums, tall Hollyhocks, and Phloxes. P. 
Pissardii reaches a height of about fifteen feet. The 
double-flowering Sloe, Prunus spinosa, flore pleno, is 
described as very lovely, but as yet we have it not. 



FLOWERING TREES 231 

The flowering fruit trees do not at all exhaust the 
treasures to be had, and one of the loveliest of these 
others and earliest to bloom of any of our flowering 
trees is the Shadbush, a lovely will-o'-the-wisp of a tree 
appearing like puffs of mist among the wet green trunks 
of woodland trees — -as ethereal and fleeting. This 
lovely wild thing with its harsh-sounding name, Amelan- 
chier canadensis, enjoys the shelter of the garden walls 
where rough winds may not tear its fragile flowers and 
where its roots may go deep into the rich soil of the 
borders. It is a graceful, lightly made tree though 
sometimes reaching a height of thirty feet, but it blooms 
when quite small, and the peculiar wraithlike quality of 
its flowering makes it especially welcome in the spring 
garden. 

Both the native Dogwood and Judas trees, which 
blooming in unison in Maryland and Virginia create of 
the April woods a fairy world, are both entirely worthy 
a place within the garden. The spreading Dogwood is 
too well known to need description. The white and 
the rarer pink variety are to be found in most good 
gardens, and it is not only in spring that it is valuable, 
but in its rich autumn dress as well. 

The tiny lavender-pink blossoms of the Judas tree or 
Redbud, Cercis canadensis, appear before the leaves and 
are set so closely upon the naked branches that little 
bunches and knots of them are crowded off upon the 
trunk of the tree, looking like extra rosettes pinned on 



232 MY GARDEN 

by anxious Mother Nature as an afterthought. The 
tree has an interesting irregularity of contour, and is 
quite Japanese in character against its background of 
gray stone. The leaves are large and heartshaped, and 
the tree is a fairly rapid grower, blooming when quite 
young. There is a variety called Siliquastrum which 
attains a height of about ten feet, and is more bushy in 
growth. The flowers are somewhat larger than those of 
canadensis and it is perhaps a better tree altogether. 
Pinky-mauve Darwin Tulips nicely repeat the colour of 
the Judas tree, along its border, relieved by bushes of 
Hardy Candytuft. John Gerarde described the colour 
of the Judas flowers as a "purple colour mixed with 
red," and further says of the tree that "it is thought to 
be that on which Judas did hang himself and not upon 
the Elder Tree as it is vulgarly said." This explains its 
strange name. 

The two splendid Magnolias, M. conspicua and M. 
Soulangeana, flower by mid-April. The first, which is 
known as the Yulan Magnolia, has been cultivated in 
China for a thousand years, and is considered the sym- 
bol of candour and beauty. Its great thick-skinned 
white flowers exhale a rare fragrance, and the tree in 
time reaches a great height. Soulangeana bears pale 
flowers stained with deeper colour, and is the more often 
seen. Once established Magnolias are as hardy as iron, 
but they are somewhat difficult to transplant. March 
is said to be the best time to set them out, and it is well 



FLOWERING TREES 233 

to shade the young trees for several weeks and keep the 
ground about them thoroughly moist. All Magnolias 
prefer a damp soil, but will do well wherever the soil is 
deep and rich. 

No garden would be complete without a few Haw- 
thorns. Here we have only two — the white English 
Hawthorn or May, and Paul's Double Scarlet Thorn— 
but there are many others. The white thorn, Crataegus 
Oxyacantha, while it is the commonest, must surely be the 
loveliest, and I know of few things which fill the air with 
so rare a perfume. It may be had in various pink and 
red forms and double, but the single white is, I think, 
the most characteristic and beautiful. The effect of 
the tree in flower is not pure white, but almost silvery. 
Burns sings of the Hawthorn, "wi' its lock o' siller 
grey," and Shelley of the "moonlight coloured May." 

I have a fine Hawthorn tree outside my bedroom 
window, and not only enjoy the sweet perfume the first 
thing upon waking, but hear the bees testifying in noisy 
fashion to the excellence of the fare provided for them. 
Paul's Scarlet Thorn is very brilliant when in full flower, 
but lacks the sweetness of the other. Both, in time, 
grow into good-sized trees but are rather leisurely about 
it. 

A favourite among my garden trees is the Golden 
Chain, Laburnum vulgar e — the variety Water erii is 
better — and in late May hangs chains of yellow pea- 
shaped blossoms nearly two feet in length from every 



234 MY GARDEN 

branch. It is easily raised from seed, and grows 
quickly, finally reaching a height of about twenty feet. 
It will grow in any well-drained soil and impartially in 
sun or shade, but, as far north as Massachusetts, is not 
reliably hardy save in sheltered places. All parts of the 
tree are said to be poisonous, especially the beans that 
follow the flowers. 

If room can be found it is pleasant to give a corner to 
our native Burning Bush, or Wahoo, Euonymus atropur- 
pureus, for the sake of its brilliant seed vessels which 
dangle like scarlet ear-drops from every twig and 
branch, hanging long after the crimson leaves have 
fallen and carrying a bit of cheer through the desolate 
gateway of winter. The leaves, bark, and fruit of this 
tree are also said to be poisonous. 

There is an old saying which is good advice: "Be 
aye sticking in a tree, it'll be growing when you're 
sleeping." Do not wait until the garden is finished, but 
put the trees in first, that they may be developing and 
preparing to give to the garden the appearance that we 
so earnestly desire — of having long existed. 



CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

GREEN DRAPERIES 

" In a garden Nature is not to be her simple self, but is to be sub- 
ject to man's conditions, his choice, his rejection." 

— John Sedding. 

VINES are the draperies of the garden, and as 
much thought should be given to their choice 
and bestowal as to the hangings of a room. 
The wrong vine may mar an otherwise pleasant scene, 
and the right one will frequently quite redeem the com- 
monplace. Architectural indiscretions and enormities 
may be buried and forgotten beneath a heavy covering 
of vines, and many a crude and unsightly object brought 
into harmony with its surroundings through the kindly 
tact of some gracious climbing plant. No need to 
emphasize the charm of vineclad arbours and porches, 
of green-draped walls and gateways, which do so much 
toward giving to our gardens the appearance of per- 
manence and livableness so much desired. But per- 
haps it is a little needful to speak of the fact that the 
chief factor in this charm is luxuriance, which may not 
be had without generous preparation of the spot the 
vine is to occupy. 

Nearly all climbing plants require a rich soil to sup- 

235 



236 MY GARDEN 

port the great top growth, and a deep and wide hole, 
well manured, should be prepared for their reception. 
Yearly enrichment should be given, and frequent culti- 
vation of the soil around the vine will insure a freer 
growth. It is the part of wisdom to start the training 
of young climbing plants at a very tender age, for once 
let them have their own way for a season, and much 
cruel mutilation is necessary to bring them back to the 
paths of decorum. In many a situation, however, the 
vine may be allowed its own sweet will, and sweet indeed 
it is, when one observes the delightful manner in which 
Nature hangs her festoons of Virginia creeper. Wood- 
bine, Bittersweet, and Clematis over stumps and fences, 
dead trees, and rocky hillsides; but when some special 
object is to be covered, no time should be lost in pointing 
out to the young vine the path it is to follow and seeing 
that it obeys. The matter of pruning is of importance, 
and is much better left entirely undone unless knowl- 
edge and experience guide the shears. Most vines may 
be safely left unpruned if doing well, but if in a weak 
condition may be cut hard back to induce a sturdier 
growth. 

Maeterlinck says: "Though there be plants and 
flowers that are awkward and ungainly, there is none 
that is wholly without wisdom and ingenuity," and it 
seems to me that climbing plants are gifted with a 
special intelligence. It is well known that all the twin- 
ing vines twine in a given direction — that is, from left to 



GREEN DRAPERIES 237 

right, or the opposite, and that it is not possible to per- 
suade them to change their plans. It is remarkable, 
too, to see their different ways of getting up in the 
world, some by means of aerial rootlets, as the Ivy and 
Ampelopsis ; some by little seeking tendrils that strongly 
grasp any available object, as the Clematis and Grape; 
some which twine themselves around a given support, 
as Honeysuckle and Wistaria, and others which throw 
themselves recklessly upon anything within their reach 
and demand a lift. To this class belong the Climbing 
Roses. 

There are of course annual and perennial vines at 
our disposal, and while in the established garden there is 
little reason to employ the former, in new gardens they 
are indispensable to provide a little drapery while the 
permanent climbers are getting themselves settled and 
making a start. 

Among annuals I must confess to a weakness for 
Morning Glories. Thoreau admitted a similar weak- 
ness when he wrote, "It always refreshes me to see it 
. . . I associate it with the holiest morning hours." 
But Morning Glories have their faults, and a bad one 
is that they are apt to impose upon one's hospitahty. 
They appear to think that an invitation to spend a sum- 
mer in 3^our garden may be stretched to cover any 
number of summers, and back they come year after 
year with never so much as a "by your leave," or 
"which plant may I use as a lift.^" 



238 MY GARDEN 

I remember once in my early gardening experience 
being away for two months during the summer and 
finding, upon my return, the garden positively gasping 
for breath in the clutches of these unbidden guests. 
The moment my back was turned they had risen up all 
over the garden and climbed like acrobats up anything 
so unfortunate as to possess an upright stalk. It was 
crass outlawry, of course, and had to be ruthlessly dealt 
with, but in my heart I felt that beneath their dainty 
burden the smug Dahlias had acquired a grace quite 
foreign to them, and that the poor half -strangled Holly- 
hocks had never looked so lovely as when providing a 
trellis for these wantons, with their "fairy loops and 
rings." 

The Japanese have wrought magic upon the simple 
Morning Glory, and have created a race called Japanese 
Imperial, which will climb eight feet and hang out 
marvellously ruffled, scalloped, and fringed blossoms, in 
gorgeous shades and combinations, in great profusion. 
Copper, azure, crimson, rose colour, all are possible, and 
many boast a throat or markings of another tint. To 
insure quick germination the seeds of this climber may 
be notched, or soaked in warm water for a few hours be- 
fore planting, and they may be started indoors in little 
pots for early flowering. 

The ghostly Moon Vine, Ipomoea grandiflora, belongs 
to the same family as the foregoing. It makes a tre- 
mendous growth in a season, and this fact, with its 



GREEN DRAPERIES 239 

luxuriant foliage, causes it to be in great demand for 
screening porches. The great white blossoms, open only 
at night, peer uncannily from the dusky shadows of the 
dark foliage with striking effect, but I do not like this 
great flower which cannot bear the sweet light of day. 
Another member of the family considered of merit is 
the beautiful Californian I. ruhro caerulea, in its va- 
riety, "Heavenly Blue," which must be started indoors, 
and when planted out given a warm and sheltered sit- 
uation. 

The Dolichos, or Hyacinth Bean, winds its way 
through Oriental poetry as the Woodbine and Jasmine 
through our own. It is a rapid climber, flowering 
vigorously, in erect spikes of purple or white pea-shaped 
flowers, from July until autumn. It requires a sunny 
situation and enjoys plentiful watering in summer. It 
may be started indoors, or planted out after the ground 
is well warmed by the May sunshine. 

Coboea scandens is a popular annual climber. It is a 
rapid grower and bears in July numerous greenish- 
purple cup-and-saucer-like blossoms, which are rather 
artistic in their colouring. It enjoys a sunny position 
and a soil not very rich, and the seeds should be started 
indoors. I have been told that these should be placed 
edgewise in the pot, but I do not know if this is fact or 
tradition. 

Members of the Hop and Gourd families provide 
satisfactory, quick-growing climbers. Trained over 



240 MY GARDEN 

fences and arches the Hop is very graceful and luxuriant, 
and even the variegated form of Humulus JajponicuSy 
the variety usually grown, is quite pretty. 

Raising Gourds is very popular in my family, and a 
single package of mixed seed will frequently yield some 
very strange results. Some of the curious fruit is quite 
ornamental, but the vines are hardly suitable for plant- 
ing save in out-of-the-way places. We start the seed 
indoors in small pots and transplant when danger from 
frost is past. 

Adlumia cirrhosa, variously known as Allegheny 
Vine, Mountain Fringe, Climbing Fumatory, Wood 
Fringe, and Fairy Creeper, is a frail biennial vine which, 
however, blooms the first year from seed, of endearing 
qualities and beguiling grace. Mrs. Earl, in her charm- 
ing "Old Time Gardens," thinks that no garden is com- 
plete without it, "for its delicate green Rue-like leaves 
lie so gracefully on Stone and brick walls, or on fences, 
and it trails its slender tendrils so lightly over dull 
shrubs that are not flowering, beautifying them afresh 
with an alien bloom of delicate little pinkish flowers like 
tiny bleeding hearts." Given a rich, warm soil and a 
sunny exposure, this frail little climber will sometimes 
reach a height of twelve feet and throw itself about in an 
extravagance of airy festoons and garlands quite be- 
witching to see. 

Last, but most important, are the two annual climb- 
ers most in use : the Nasturtium and the Sweet Pea. The 



GREEN DRAPERIES 241 

former is too well known to need description and too 
entirely accommodating to require special treatment. 
There is nothing it will not do for you, from clothing 
with a garment of respectability the spot where the 
garbage receptacle reposes, to rejuvenating, with its 
vitality and brilliance, a dead tree or rotting stump. It 
is as proud to climb the netting around the chicken- 
yard as to scale the dizzy heights of fashion in the 
flower garden. Nasturtiums do best planted in a soil 
of very moderate richness. High living makes them run 
to great juicy stalks and luxuriant foliage, but few 
flowers. 

The Sweet Pea is not quite so simple a proposition in 
our sun-baked American gardens, and though loveliest 
and most desired of annuals it is not often seen satis- 
factorily grown, at least in the Middle and Southern 
States. I think early planting is the main considera- 
tion, and to this end we prepare in the autumn a trench 
about ten inches deep. The ground has been pre- 
viously deeply dug and enriched with well-rotted cow 
manure, and the seed is sown thinly at the bottom of the 
trench about the middle of March, and covered with 
about two inches of soil. Later, when the little plants 
begin to grow, the earth is gradually filled in around 
them, until the trench is even with the surrounding 
surface and the shrinking roots buried deep in the cool 
earth, and safe from the burning rays of the summer sun. 
If the flowers are planted in the vegetable garden, or in 



242 MY GARDEN 

some other inconspicuous place, a mulch of old stable 
litter or grass will further protect the roots and conserve 
the moisture, giving to those lovely blossoms a longer ten- 
ure of life, and in the flower garden, where the stable 
litter would be unsightly, a living mulch of some lightly 
rooted annual could be substituted. Frequent applica- 
tions of liquid manure during the warm weather will 
greatly benefit the plants, and constant picking is 
the price of continued bloom. Strong pea-brush firmly 
inserted in the ground is a good support for the vines, 
or chicken wire, strongly staked to resist the wind. 
Each season brings forth many beautiful new Sweet 
Peas, so a list given now would soon be out of date, but 
of course the wonderful Orchid-flowered sorts and those 
known as "Spencer" or "Waved" are the best. 

Of perennial vines none is more worthy of the choic- 
est site in the garden and of our most intelligent atten- 
tion than the Clematis. Indeed one might drape all 
one's walls and arbours with the various species and 
varieties and be in no danger of monotony, or suffer 
from lack of bloom from May until frost. It is a great 
race, varied and beautiful, but not to be had, by any 
means, for the mere planting. It is not one of those 
plants which just grows; it demands the very best that 
is in us and in our gardens; it puts us on our mettle, it 
flouts and discourages us, it lures us on and sometimes 
it rewards us in a manner to turn the head of the sanest 
gardener. 



GREEN DRAPERIES 243 

Last summer, when the exquisite, exotic-looking 
Clematis Henryi ascended his trellis to the top of the 
garden-house roof, as nonchalantly as if it were his reg- 
ular habit, and then hung out, in breathless succession, 
some fifty or sixty huge, gleaming white creations, I felt 
that my garden cup was spilling over at a great rate 
and that I must indeed be a master gardener. The fact 
that this summer, in the trenchant words of my assist- 
ant, "Henry up and died ongrateful" in the very 
flower of his good intentions, did not, to any great extent, 
dim the triumph of those wonderful weeks, for truly it 
was too great an experience to be vouchsafed one every 
summer. 

Henryi belongs among what are called the "large- 
flowered hybrids," of which there are a number of 
groups, each containing numerous varieties, and it is 
toward these that our desire and ambition turn, rather 
than toward the small-flowered, wild sorts, so useful and 
so much more amenable. The old purple C. Jackmani 
is the best known of the large-flowered Clematis and is 
one of the most easily managed. There is a superb vine 
here on the front porch which decks itself yearly in an 
imperial robe and seems to ask for no attention save a 
severe pruning in the early spring. The pruning of 
these plants is of great importance, and each group must 
be dealt with according to its needs. The following di- 
rections and descriptions are gleaned from authoritative 
writings on the Clematis, as well as from some experi- 



244 MY GARDEN 

ence in my own garden and observation in a great many 
gardens both here and in Great Britain. 

The soil best enjoyed by the Clematis is light and 
rich, and of a loamy texture, with the addition of some 
chalk or lime. Good drainage is essential, but that in 
our country is not the problem that it is in England. 
An annual dose of well-rotted cow manure is needed by 
the large-flowered hybrids, and all sorts appreciate a 
warm blanket in the winter, not because they are tender 
so much as that the extra nourishment thus procured 
is beneficial and relieves the plants of the strain of 
our extreme cold. A mulch of stable litter is gratefully 
received after spring planting; this conserves the mois- 
ture until the plants are established and the roots go 
deep enough to avoid the heat of the sun. When growth 
starts in the spring the tender young shoots should be 
carefully looked after and gently tied to some support, 
for they are very brittle and easily injured, and as it is 
upon these shoots that many of the sorts bear their 
bloom they merit extra care. It has been discovered 
that some shade for the lower stems of the Clematis vine 
is essential to its well-being, and so it may well be 
planted at the back of herbaceous borders, to climb the 
wall or fence, or trail over the hedge, or be supported on 
tall pea-brush. 

But even with all these precautions and attentions 
the large-flowered Clematis will often "up and die on- 
grateful," and the reason for this, Mr. William Robinson 



GREEN DRAPERIES 245 

believes, is that they are grafted upon unsuitable wild 
stock, instead of being raised from seed or layers; and 
that they are frequently the victims of a disease, bac- 
terial in its nature, "which commences so insidiously 
that one only perceives its presence when too late." 
Application of Bordeaux mixture is said to be a preven- 
tive, and also a "pinch of sulphur thrown at the foot of 
a plant after it has begun to grow, and renewed at inter- 
vals, is efficacious as a preservative from disease." To 
those wishing to make a study of this most wonderful 
flower I would suggest Mr. Robinson's sympathetic 
and helpful little book, "The Virgin's Bower," and 
"The Clematis," by Moore and Jackman, now out of 
print, but procurable through dealers in old books. 
The large-flowered hybrids may all be termed slender 
climbers, and some of them reach a considerable height. 

The Jackmani Group. Enormously free flowering 
in early July and thereafter occasionally through the 
summer. Flowers on new shoots. Prune hard back 
in late autumn (November) or early spring. A splendid 
vine for trellises, porches, and arches. 

Fine varieties: Jackmani superba, large royal purple; 
Jackmani alba, pure white; Madame Baron-Veillard, 
very free, satiny mauve-pink; Gypsy Queen, reddish- 
purple. 

Viticella Group. Blooms freely all summer from July 
and is perhaps the most reliable of the large-flowered 
kinds. Flowers on new shoots. Prune rather sharply 



246 MY GARDEN 

in late November. Perfectly hardy. Flowers not so 
large as lanuginosa but more numerous. 

Fine varieties : Kermesina, clear reddish-mauve, very 
free; Grandiflora punicea, wine-red; Viticella, bluish- 
purple; Alba, gray, white. 

Lanuginosa Group. Enormous flowers borne suc- 
cessionally through summer and autumn. Flowers on 
new wood. In pruning remove weak shoots and dead 
wood in spring. Beautiful vine for trellis or post. 

Fine varieties: Beauty of Worcester, violet-blue; 
Lady Caroline Neville, plum; Madame Van Houtte, 
white; Marcel Moser, soft lilac with reddish band; 
Henryi, pure white. 

Florida Group. Flowers on old wood. Prune di- 
rectly after flowering by removing seed vessels and 
cutting out useless or crowded shoots. Blooms in 
summer. Double. 

Fine varieties: Belle of Woking, silver-gray; Duchess 
of Edinburgh, pure white. 

Patens Group. Flowers on old wood and requires 
same treatment as Florida. Spring and summer. 
Large and showy. 

Fine varieties: Nellie Koster, rosy-mauve; Miss Bate- 
man, pure white; Mrs. Geo. Jackman, satiny white with 
ivory bar; Sir Garnet Wolseley, dull blue with reddish 
band. 

Clematis coccinea. Dies to the ground in winter, so 
needs no pruning. Flowers in July and August. Scar- 



GREEN DRAPERIES 247 

let, urn-shaped blossoms. Very gay and effective. 
Easily grown sort, and charming for posts, arches, or for 
trailing over shrubs and balustrades. Easily raised 
from seed. There are hybrids of this form, but I have 
not seen them. 

The small-flowered forms of the Clematis are not by 
any means to be neglected, for these are among the most 
generous and charming of climbers and seldom oppose 
any obstacle to our desires. Much more luxuriant 
than the large-flowered hybrids, they are splendid for 
porches, pergolas, and walls, dead trees, or for any posi- 
tion where a vigorous climber is required. C montana 
climbs to a great height and decorates itself in May with 
yard-long garlands of anemone-like bloom, white with 
hints of pink and a pleasant fragrance. There is a 
reddish form of montana, more lately introduced, which 
is said to be extremely beautiful, and grandiflora has 
flowers much larger than the type. To prune montana 
cut away the weak, straggling, or overcrowded branches 
in late March, and carefully train the long year-old wood 
at full length to cover the desired space. 

C. paniculata^ the vigorous Japanese climber with 
masses of creamy bloom in August and September, is 
well known and useful. C. vitalba is another fluffy, 
white-flowered sort and a high climber. C. flammula 
and C. /. var. rubra bear, respectively, clusters of small 
white and purple flowers, deliciously scented, in August 
and September. Our own native Traveller's Joy, C. 



248 MY GARDEN 

virginica, is too well known to need description. It is 
quite worthy a place in the garden, and nothing is more 
softly lovely for trailing over rough banks, rocks, or low 
fences. All these sorts need no pruning save the re- 
moval of overcrowded branches, or useless shoots, and 
any good garden soil and a sunny situation inspires 
them to do their best. 

Honeysuckles are endeared to us by long years of 
companionship, by the wayside and in the garden. One 
cannot imagine a garden without them, though Bacon, 
in his well-known essay "Of Gardens," in giving a list of 
plants proper for a garden, while including Honey- 
suckles, adds, "so they be somewhat afar off." What 
could there be in Honeysuckles, "ripened by the sun," 
that one would not want right under one's nose.^^ Truly 
the great man had his idiosyncrasies! For all its 
scrambling ways the Honeysuckle seems the most do- 
mestic of vines — to belong to cottage doorways, the 
living-room windows, or the favourite corner of the 
porch, and its delicious perfume, which Maeterlinck 
called the "soul of dew," wafted to us in our country 
walks and drives seems ever to proclaim a home. 

Hall's variety is a very good, almost evergreen 
Honeysuckle, which blooms from June until freezing 
weather and is a strong, rapid climber. Lonicera peri- 
clymenum is a favourite variety, and its reddish, fra- 
grant blossoms are freely produced. I have not found 
that it grows quite so tall as Hall's but it is useful in 



GREEN DRAPERIES 249 

many situations. This is the ''woodbine" of poetry. 
Lonicera japonica var. aurea is the golden-leaved sort, 
seldom seen to advantage, as its foliage is too striking for 
indiscriminate use, but which is very attractive used 
with white-flowered climbing Roses or other white- 
flowered climbers and with plants of harmonious colour- 
ing near at hand. There are many sorts of Honey- 
suckle, but these three, with the old trumpet or coral 
Honeysuckle, L. sempervirens, ever a source of pride in 
old gardens, are enough for much enjoyment. These 
sweet and patient vines will stand more neglect than any 
others, will grow in dry, shady places, in stony ground, 
or in rough grass, but will eloquently respond to good 
living and a comfortable situation. 

Probably of all flowering climbers the Wistaria pro- 
vokes the most ardent admiration. The Chinese Wis- 
taria is the best and strongest for our climate, but the 
Japanese sort, W. multijuga, which the Japanese grow 
along the eaves of their houses, allowing the superb blos- 
soms to form a fringe sometimes a yard deep, is a splen- 
did variety and wefl worth a trial. Both have white 
varieties, which, if anything, are lovelier than the purple, 
but it is more satisfying to have both. The Chinese 
and Japanese Wistarias bloom in May, and there is 
a sort, American, I think, W. speciosa, which flowers 
in June and July. But this plant is only useful where 
a succession is desired, as it is not nearly so fine. 

Wistarias are heavy feeders; indeed, it would be diffi- 



250 MY GARDEN 

cult to provide a too rich diet for them, and to this end it 
is a good plan to trench the soil at least three feet deep, 
filling the hole with a mixture of good garden soil and 
well-rotted stable manure. In the matter of pruning and 
training I quote Mr. Wm. McCollom's valuable book on 
vines: "If a Wistaria has been growing undisturbed for a 
few years, you will find that it has a large percentage of 
long, thin, wiry shoots. These do not produce flowers 
and should be removed at any time of the year. The 
short, stumpy spurs are the kind that flower, and to 
produce these the plants should be pruned back to 
within two or three eyes of the flowers immediately 
after they fall. The aim always should be to keep one 
good shoot coming on each season, to provide room for 
it cut one of the oldest shoots out entirelj^ If you 
desire the plant to attain a great height, keep one of the 
shoots growing until it has reached the height desired, 
when it can be spurred in to produce flowers. ' Spurring * 
is clipping off the top and cutting the laterals close to 
the main stem." No finer climber exists for pergolas, 
walls, or porches than the Wistaria, and its period of 
bloom is ever a delight. 

A vine of great vigour and pertinacity is Tecoma radi- 
cans, better known as the Trumpet Creeper. By the 
way, the most recent authorities give Campsis as the 
correct name instead of Tecoma. It is a bold climber, 
which south of New Jersey decorates the woods and 
roadsides in a wild state and which. Miss Loundsberry 



GREEN DRAPERIES 251 

says, has become a troublesome weed in parts of the 
west, very difficult to eradicate, but how splendid must 
be the wastes illumined by its vivid bloom. 

It climbs by means of aerial rootlets and will cling to 
wood or stone, which makes it valuable for covering 
buildings, as there is no trouble in fastening it up, but 
it is a great, tumbling, boisterous thing, fitter to climb 
the walls of the stables or outbuildings than of the 
dwelling. For pergola and trellis it is a bit too free and 
energetic, but for positions where a bold, striking effect 
is desired there is nothing better. Its orange-scarlet 
flowers are borne in August and seem a fitting intro- 
duction to the ruddy tints so soon to prevail. Any 
necessary pruning should be done in spring, as the 
flowers form on the new wood. If given a rich soil and a 
sunny situation the vine is capable of a height of forty 
feet. The Chinese Tecoma grandiflora with its variety 
atrosanguinea are better in most ways than T. radi- 
cans. 

A slender climber, very dear to me from long associa- 
tion, is Akehia quinata. I think I have never seen it in 
any garden save my own and the garden of my child- 
hood. There it formed, in its luxuriance, a deep reveal 
around the library windows, and in spring rendered the 
room almost untenable with its clouds of warm perfume. 
This was a very old vine, for the Akebia is a slender 
thing, and the cushionlike growth that I remember 
must have been the result of many years. This climber 



252 MY GARDEN 

is a Japanese, and Donald McDonald, in his book of 
"Fragrant Flowers and Leaves," says that it is much 
used in decorating eastern gardens. The foliage is 
small and very pretty, and the little three-cornered, 
brownish-plum coloured blossoms, which cover the 
vine, literally from top to toe, are quaint and pretty and 
deliciously sweet. Here it very delightfully veils one 
end of the garden-house porch, and blooms about the 
first of May. English garden books frequently refer to 
the Akebia as not quite hardy, but certainly here it has 
proved itself quite equal to the New York winters. A 
light, rich soil is its preference, and it will grow in partial 
shade. It needs no pruning, save an occasional short- 
ening of the long branches to encourage growth at the 
bottom, for this slender thing is apt to hurry to the top 
of its trellis and then fling itself about in an abandon of 
wreaths and garlands, quite unmindful of the neediness 
of its lower limbs. 

Actinidia arguta is another Japanese vine not often 
seen. It is of twining habit and bears little clusters of 
ivory-coloured blossoms with black anthers, and the 
foliage is dark and fine. It loves a sunny situation, and 
after the first two years, when the plant is thoroughly 
established, may be cut back about half in early spring 
to keep it in good and full condition. 

An old friend is the Matrimony Vine, i2/^^*^^<^^^*^^^^^'*> 
but not so valued but what one may easily do without 
it. Its red berries are attractive, but the blossoms are 



GREEN DRAPERIES 253 

unimportant and the foliage too prone to mildew; and al- 
together I should choose something else. 

Aristolochia sipho is a climber that I frankly dislike, 
though my feeling is not shared by many, for I fre- 
quently see it on porches, annihilating sunshine and air, 
but forming an effective screen. Its leaves are large and 
its growth dense, and the curious chocolate-coloured 
blossoms somewhat resemble a pipe in shape, hence the 
name, Dutchman's Pipe. 

A vine of fairly recent introduction and one of real 
value, it seems to me, is Polygonum halshuanicum, a 
slender climber, with masses of filmy white flowers in 
the late summer. It makes a fairly heavy growth and 
is a good climber for trellises and porches. 

Of vines grown largely for their foliage none is so fine 
as the English Ivy, *'the vine of glossy sprout," and 
contrary to the suspicions of many we may have it in 
a good deal of luxuriance in this coulitry if a little 
courtesy is extended to it. In the first place, we im- 
patient Americans must be patient with the British 
deliberateness of the Ivy. For two years after planting, 
and sometimes three, it will do nothing but survey the 
situation and venture a leaf or two, but after that given 
time, good soil, and a north wall it will start a steady 
ascent and very soon present a broad and beautiful sur- 
face of dark and shining green. Mr. McCollom recom- 
mends protecting the young plants in winter for a few 
years with a mulch of manure and a screen of evergreen 



254 MY GARDEN 

branches. Sometimes the leaves become brown and 
dry in winter, but those may be rubbed off and the vine 
will reclothe itself in a short time. Of course the Ivy 
is not the vine for all situations in our country, a south- 
ern exposure being very trying to it, but wherever a 
close, green covering is desired and it is possible to 
establish the Ivy the result will more than justify the 
trouble and waiting. 

We are much too quick to plant the accommodating 
Ampelopsis Veitchii, which, while one of the most useful 
of vines, is much too rampant and pervasive a subject 
for many situations. There are several species of 
Ampelopsis besides Veitchii. There are two varieties 
growing here, purpurea, and robusta, but I can see little 
difference between these and Veitchii, in fact I cannot 
tell the one from the other. Its fine autumn colouring 
is the chief charm of this vine and in this it is outclassed 
by its relative, the Virginia Creeper (Ampelopsis quin- 
quefolia), overlooked perhaps in summer, but claiming 
the admiration of all in autumn, when every low wall in 
the countryside has its burning tangle and high in the 
branches of many a tree Nature's signal fires flash 
forth. It is a graceful, headlong vine, clinging closely, 
then hanging in great, loose festoons, and ever impatient 
of restraint. Any hint from us in the way of cleats or 
binding cords is not respectfully received; indeed, will 
probably not be noticed at all, for the Virginia Creeper 
will swing, or wave or cling or creep as the notion takes 



GREEN DRAPERIES 255 

it, and perhaps it is this wayward quahty which makes it 
a beloved thing. 

Another native which endures garden Hfe with equa- 
nimity is Celastrus scandens, the Bittersweet, the chief 
glory of which is the gay scarlet berries that remain 
upon it all winter long and create a bit of cheer in the 
white winter garden. It will grow in sun or shade, and 
takes kindly to any lift offered for its upward journey. 

Euonymus radicans is a good evergreen vine, where 
great height is not required, for it seldom goes higher 
than eight feet and is pretty deliberate in getting that 
far. For low walls it is excellent, and the variegated 
form is pretty used in many situations. When one 
reads such a book as Mr. McCollom's "Vines," one 
realizes the great number of climbers in existence and 
the few in general cultivation. My own list is a slen- 
der one, but all these, unless otherwise stated, are both 
willing and lovely, and whatever other climbers are 
lacking these should be in every garden. 



CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

TROUBLE 

More grows in the garden than the gardener sows. 

— Old Proverb. 
Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds. 

— Shakespeare. 

YES, even into the garden trouble finds its way. 
Borne upon the silver blade of the frost, the 
beating wings of the wind, the parched tongue 
of the drought, it burrows in the ground, flies in the air, 
creeps in at the gate and over the wall, and here, as 
elsewhere, the seeds of trouble are sown and lusty prog- 
eny arise and thrive. Trouble in the garden, however, 
is without sting; rather is there incentive and exhil- 
aration in the problems to be met and solved, the ene- 
mies to be vanquished. 

Garden trouble may for convenience of attack be di- 
vided into five sections, each of which has a rather de- 
pressing number of subdivisions — that is, they seem 
depressing when gathered together into one chapter, as 
they never are in any one garden, for the blessings in 
every garden far outnumber the adversities. Here is the 
blacklist: weeds, insects, plant diseases, animals, and 
the elements. I believe there are those who would 

256 



TROUBLE 257 

create a sixth division — gardeners — but, being my own 
head gardener and constituting a large portion of my 
working force, this form of trouble has not yet come to 
me. My assistant is a young man possessed of that 
rarest and most golden of virtues among gardeners, that 
of sticking to the letter of his instructions without 
casting about in his mind for variations on the spirit, 
and who, after six years' association with the garden 
people, calls almost every plant a Lily, yet has a percep- 
tion so delicately tuned to the difference between weeds 
and licensed dwellers, an eye and hand so savage for 
offending sucker and ruinous insects, and a nature so 
genuinely kind to man and beast and the very least 
seedling, that he counts along with such of the garden's 
blessings as the gentle showers and the mild south wind. 
Jonas, for so we shall call him, has other good quali- 
ties. He does not insist upon cleaning up the garden 
paths too thoroughly. He takes out what he is told, 
but the colony of self-sown Pansies at the foot of the 
garden steps is quite safe, and the green embroidery 
which outlines the joints of a flight of steps and will one 
day burst into a lavender glory called Candytuft is not 
treated to the startling language and summary methods 
Jonas keeps for weeds. Many a pleasant accident is 
saved for our delight by his unconscious discernment. 
Mulleins, for a long time, he could not understand or 
endure, and whether they were our native sort or those 
raised with care from imported seed they all came out 



258 MY GARDEN 

and knew the rubbish heap, but now the order is re- 
versed and they all stay in, natives and foreigners tower- 
ing together, and it is better so. There are those who 
hint that Jonas' "castiron back" lacks the hinge of con- 
centrated endeavour, and perhaps this, too, is fortunate, 
for, while I like to talk of discernment, it may be that 
when Jonas leans upon his hoe and his gaze sinks deep 
into the green of the mountain, or intently follows the 
sweeping flight of some broad-winged bird 'tis then my 
little outlaws get their innings — the wise-faced Pansies 
in the path nudge each other and grow apace, and the 
wanton Poppy-person in the grass spreads out her 
silken skirts and rocks for glee. 

But we have not yet come to trouble, and it is a 
serious matter, not to be lightly treated. Well, weeds, 
of course, are the most persistent of our troubles; but, 
after all, what is a weed ? They appear to have different 
meanings for different minds. Wordsworth defines them 
as "flowers out of place," the ever-kindly Emerson 
thought "a weed is a poor creature whose virtues have 
not yet been discovered." Thoreau wrote: "Flowers 
must not be too profuse and obtrusive, else they acquire 
the reputation of weeds," and Shakespeare had no 
patience with weeds and wrote vindictively of their 
sinning. I have a fine book published by the Canadian 
Government upon the subject of weeds, which gives 
what seems to me a fair definition: "Any injurious, 
troublesome, or unsightly plant that is, at the same time, 



TROUBLE 259 

useless or comparatively so." Many weeds have much 
charm, and I have to confess to a foolish fondness for 
some very troublesome ones, but one must, after all, be 
a consistent gardener and mind the old saw: 

"One year's seeding, 
Seven years' weeding." 

Weeds, of course, are annual, biennial, and perennial, 
and it is rather important to know to which section 
one's garden weeds belong. The extermination of 
annual and biennial weeds, if never allowed to bear seed, 
is a simple matter, but perennial weeds present greater 
difficulties. The roots of most of them are outrageously 
persistent, any tiny piece being detached at once be- 
coming the self-supporting head of a thriving family, 
well versed in the art of defying man, and woman, too. 
To this class belongs the succulent "Pussley," which 
Henry Ward Beecher says is the "vegetable type of im- 
mortality." It must be gotten out of the ground en- 
tirely, else the labour is vain. 

Cutting the tops off weeds has the same effect as 
cutting children's hair: thickens the growth, and when 
one turns them under, burying roots and seeds, one is 
increasing one's tribulations a hundredfold. 

The seeds of many weeds retain their vitality for a 
long time and will lie in the ground for years, awaiting 
the psychological moment to burst forth in fresh and 
green contempt of our lax working methods. It is the 



260 MY GARDEN 

part of wisdom to burn all weeds, whether in seed or not, 
and to keep the ground well stirred, especially in the 
spring, to insure the destruction of all aspiring seedlings. 

Weeds rob the soil of food intended for plants that 
are in the garden by invitation and in times of drought 
are a real menace, for they are a thirsty lot and do not 
hesitate to take all they can get of the meagre supply of 
moisture in the ground. 

The list is not long of those plants which give Jonas 
and me great trouble in the garden. 

The worst is Chickweed, an insignificant appearing 
thing, with a meek white eye and no conscience. It 
looks a harmless thing, but do not be deceived ; the seed 
is as hardy as iron and is ripening all the time. Even in 
midwinter, if the sun but opens half an eye upon it, the 
tiny blossoms unfold and become seed. It loves the 
rich soil of the garden, but in spite of its taste for !high 
life it is not too nice to harbour plant lice, or to covet 
anything that is its neighbours. It is one of the most 
difficult weeds to eradicate but is dealt with more easily 
in dry weather. It is an annual. 

Butter-and-eggs {Linaria vulgaris) is a truly lovely 
thing, so lovely that I used to encourage it to grow in a 
thicket of peach-leaved Campanulas, among whose lilac 
and white blossoms the little yellow weed was charm- 
ing. This was several years ago and we have made little 
headway in getting rid of it, but the poor Campanulas 
were choked to death in short order. It is a deep-root- 



TROUBLE 261 

ing perennial and keeps itself going by means of its 
colonizing rootlets and seeds, which are ripe in August. 
Do not suffer it. 

In the loose soil of the garden Plantains are easy 
enough to pull out. They are perennial and increase by 
seeds which ripen in July. In paths and grass a curving 
grapefruit knife is of great assistance in removing them. 

It is difficult to know how a great coarse thing like the 
Burdock finds its way into the garden, but so it does and 
is most unsightly. It is a biennial, with a great thick 
taproot, which CD. Warner says "goes deeper than 
conscience." Cut below the crown of the plant and 
apply a handful of salt. This will insure its speedy 
demise. The curled-dock, too, is a coarse and ugly 
perennial interloper, which should be pulled up before 
seed forms. It harbours plant lice. Sheep Sorrel, or 
Sourgrass, is a relative of the above, and on account of 
its multitudinous seeds and fast-travelling perennial root- 
stock becomes a great nuisance in the garden. Every 
smallest particle of it should be removed. 

In this garden we have great trouble with Black Bind- 
weed or Wild Buckwheat, a little twining annual vine 
with shining, arrow-shaped leaves and small greenish 
flowers. Strangulation is its delight, and the only 
remedy against it is to remove it before seeding. 

Shepherd's Purse, a near relative of Pepper Grass, is 
often quite an embarrassing little plague here, and it is 
one of those weeds toward which I feel a kindness — it is 



262 MY GARDEN 

so pretty In the spring, spraying its delicate greenery 
about upon the moist brown earth, and one experiences 
a pang in rooting out a thing so young and pretty. But 
be strong! To say that Shepherd's Purse is a hardy 
annual does not do it justice, for like the Chickweed, 
when not actually frozen into passivity, it is blooming 
and ripening seed, and statistics say that a single plant 
is capable of maturing 50,000 seeds, and this at a dis- 
gracefully early age. This industrious young thing is 
prone to attacks of various diseases which will spread to 
other plants and vegetables. 

I do not know how we came to be so annoyed by the 
Night-flowering Catchfly, or Sticky Cockle, unless it is 
that the young plants very much resemble several of our 
lawful citizens and so are overlooked. It is a tall 
annual, covered all over with glandular hairs and bear- 
ing yellowish-white flowers which open at night. 

Dandelions are ever a trouble, and yet how glad we are 
to see them in early March, venturing a tousled yellow 
head here and there in sheltered corners. My little boy 
calls them his "spring friends," and does not like the 
harsh treatment they receive. In the loose soil of the 
garden it is easily pulled up, but in lawns and paths 
more drastic measures are necessary. Salt put upon 
the crown of the plant is said to kill it. 

Jonas tells the children and me that the Dandelion 
is a great weather prophet, and the Chickweed, too. If 
the winged seeds of the former fly upon a windless day, 



TROUBLE 263 

rain is certain, and if the meek eyes of the Chickweed 
close on a clear day, rain may be expected before many 
hours. 

INSECT PESTS AND FUNGOUS DISEASES 

In considering these animal and vegetable enemies of 
our plants it is well to remember that plants in lusty 
health are much less liable to succumb to disorder than 
those in a weak and depleted condition. Here, as else- 
where, an ounce of prevention is the better course. 

Cutworms. Disgusting, fat grayish worms about an 
inch long. Its ogrish vocation is to bite off the tops of 
promising young plants. It may frequently be found 
callously sleeping just beneath the soil at the foot of its 
victim. Let no mercy temper your justice. In culti- 
vating the soil in spring keep a sharp lookout for cut- 
worms and grubs. Little piles of bran made into a 
paste with sugar and water and seasoned with Paris 
Green will prove a fatal attraction. Deep holes dug at 
short intervals among young plants will often prove 
their undoing, for they are stupid fellows and falling in 
are unable to get out. 

White Grub. Not unlike the cutworm, but lighter in 
colour and more difficult to get at, as it works at the 
roots of the plants, injuring them fatally. The white 
grub is most prevalent where there is fresh manure. The 
only way I know of to get rid of it is to turn it out of 
the soil and destroy it. 



^64 MY GARDEN 

Wire Worms. These are the grubs of a kind of beetle. 
They are about three-eighths of an inch long and look 
like a piece of rusty wire. They attack the roots of 
plants in great numbers and are more in evidence in dry, 
hot soils. Arsenites sprinkled upon little piles of fresh 
clover is said to appeal to them. 

Red Spider. This is an infinitesimal but most pestif- 
erous visitant, which carries on its depredations on the 
under sides of the leaves of plants, causing them to turn 
brown. It flourishes most in dry weather, and spraying 
the plants with some force or washing them with soap- 
suds are the remedies. 

Aster Beetle. A merciless black beetle, which de- 
scends upon the garden in hordes in late summer, at- 
tacking the Asters, both perennial and annual, and 
others of the composite class. A very weak solution of 
Paris Green applied with a spray -bellows has proven a 
good remedy. 

Green Fly, or Aphis. This is a tiny, soft green creature, 
which swarms upon the tender young shoots of Roses, 
Coral Honeysuckles, and many other plants, sucking up 
their life juices and spoiling their fair promise. I read 
that it breathes through pores in its sides, so ordinary 
strangling is of no avail against it, and to kill it one must 
stop up those pores. Tobacco dust is said to accom- 
plish this mission, but after all, what can one hope to do 
against a creature that in five generations is not only 
able, but willing^ to become the progenitor of five 



TROUBLE 265 

thousand million descendants. In Dean Hole's "Book 
About Roses" the following interesting facts concerning 
the aphis are quoted: 

"Insects in general come from an egg; then turn to a 
caterpillar, which does nothing but eat; then to a chrys- 
alis, which does nothing but sleep; then to a perfect 
butterfly which does nothing but increase its kind. But 
the aphis proceeds altogether on a different system. 
The young ones are born exactly like the old ones but 
less. They stick their beak through the rind and begin 
drawing up sap when only a day old and go on quietly 
sucking for seven or eight days; and then, without love, 
courtship, or matrimony, each individual begins bring- 
ing forth young ones and continues to do so for months, 
at the rate of from twelve to eighteen daily." Tobacco 
seems a slight thing to pit against such determined 
fecundity. 

Rose Beetle. A detestable creature with the mislead- 
ing appearance of a firefly. It comes in swarms when 
the lovely Rose buds are at the point of unfolding, and 
tears and devours until, instead of the fair blossoming of 
our dreams, there remains only a mangled, agonized 
frame. It seems agreed that there is no hope against 
this plague save hand picking — a loathsome task, and 
we are not apt to remember in our rage that the rose 
beetle, like Shakespeare's "poor beetle," 

"In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great 
As when a giant dies." 



266 MY GARDEN 

Leaf Roller. A caterpillar especially destructive to 
Rose bushes. He is the larvae of a moth or butterfly, and 
there are several varieties of him, some brownish, some 
yellow, and some greenish, but all with the luxurious 
habit of rolling themselves comfortably in a fresh green 
leaf. He must be picked off and put an end to, for he is 
hatching less innocent things than plans. 

Mildew is a disease of plants which may be compared 
to a heavy cold in ourselves and is usually caused by 
sudden atmospheric changes, or long continued damp 
weather. Some plants are much more prone to this 
trouble than others. It shows in white splotches upon 
the leaves. Spraying with Bordeaux mixture is very 
good if done in the early stages, or powdered sulphur 
upon the leafage and upon the earth around the plants. 

Rust^ which occurs in yellow spots on Rose leaves, 
may be checked by spraying with Bordeaux. 

Black spot appears on full-grown Rose leaves in small 
black spots which quickly spread to cover nearly the 
whole leaf. Pick off and burn the diseased leaves and 
spray the rest of the plant with Bordeaux. 

Various Rose afflictions may be held in check by 
several thorough sprinklings with powdered hellebore 
in early spring, the first given before the leaves un- 
fold. 

It Is a good plan to spray the flowering fruit trees In 
the garden In early spring with a weak solution of Bor- 
deaux; also the Hawthorns and Pyrus Japonica. 



TROUBLE 267 

ANIMALS 

We have had Httle trouble from animals in our gar- 
den. Our own dogs, while enjoying the sun-bathed 
paths as napping places and occasionally choosing a 
cushiony mat of Cerastium, are on the whole very well 
behaved, usually following the paths quite decorously 
instead of taking short cuts across the beds. A chip- 
munk has kept bachelor hall in the garden for several 
years without doing the least harm to our tender young 
shoots, and we are very fond of him. More than one 
soft gray "cotton-tail" comes and goes among our 
treasures unrebuked, because he merits none, though the 
dogs entertain opinions which make them restive under 
our mandate that bunny "belongs" and shall be let 
alone, and I suspect the look-of-a-gun in Jonas' eye. 

Cats do harm in the garden by interfering with the 
birds, so they are not allowed. 

Moles do much harm if they elect to make your gar- 
den the scene of their wanderings. A good trap is the 
best means of getting rid of them, and the directions for 
use will come with it. Sometimes in the early morning 
we can see friend mole at work, heaving the ground as he 
goes along, and he then may be dug out and disposed of, 
poor little soft thing ! But, if we do not get him, we may 
remember that all his ways are not evil, for he is fond of 
grubs and wire worms and eats many of them, so at 
least he is trying to pay his way. 



268 MY GARDEN 

In rural France the government erects signs inform- 
ing the people of the good or bad characteristics of 
various animals and insects, that they may not, through 
ignorance, take the life of any which is a help to the 
farmer and horticulturist. The request to protect the 
birds is made, as it should be everywhere, as by devour- 
ing countless insects they are doing the country an in- 
estimable service. It is a delight to encourage and pro- 
tect them in the flower garden, for they are gay com- 
pany and work hard for their board and lodging. We 
do all we can to make the garden irresistible to them: 
there are enticing baths of nicely graduated depth, there 
are tempting trees and thickets of vines, and there are 
the overhanging eaves of the garden-house. Food is 
provided at all seasons, and freedom from cats and guns 
assured, and the small people who play in the garden 
would no more touch a nest, or cause anxiety to a 
brooding mother, than they would rob a bank. 

Toads, too, should be encouraged in the garden, for 
they have hearty appetites and devour countless insects, 
and they do no harm to plants. We have entertained 
for several years the fattest and solemnest toad I ever 
saw. Every spring, early in May, he appears from the 
same corner of the garden, a trifle depleted after his 
winter sleep, but soon to be his corpulent self again, for 
he loses no time in getting to work on the fat insect fare 
which he loves. 

The little red insect we call the Ladybug devours 



TROUBLE 269 

plant lice and never does the least harm to any plant; 
indeed, if it were not for the Ladybug and the larvae of 
the Syrphus fly plant lice would very soon increase be- 
yond control. Many other animals are our friends in 
devouring insects, caterpillars, and mice; the black 
snake, the hedgehog, and the skunk are some, which, 
with this knowledge, we may think of more kindly. The 
work of bees and butterflies in receiving and distributing 
pollen is well known, and luckily these need no extra 
encouragement, for where there are flowers and sunshine 
there will be these happy denizens of the air. 

"The pedigree of honey 
Does not concern the bee; 
A clover, any time, to him 
Is aristocracy." 



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

PLANTS FOR SPECIAL SITUATIONS 

"All is fine that is fit." 

— Old Proverb. 

ONE of the most essential points in successful 
gardening is that the plants employed should 
be well suited to the soil and situation, for 
however well the garden is conceived and carried out we 
get but a sorry effect unless there is a wholesome lux- 
uriance of growth and an appearance of permanence and 
peace. Besides, it is cruel to require a plant to struggle 
for existence in an environment totally unsuited to it 
when there are others which will do the work far better 
because they are at peace with the surroundings. One 
has but to observe nature to realize that for every situa- 
tion, however unlikely or uncompromising, there is some 
green thing which will find in it a congenial home and 
will gratefully clothe its barren surface with bloom and 
verdure. Constantly in garden making we are con- 
fronted with conditions under which most of the well- 
known hardy herbaceous perennials and gay annuals 
may not thrive, and it often requires much expense and 
experiment before the right plants are found. The fol- 
lowing notes have been made over a period of many 

270 



PLANTS FOR SPECIAL SITUATIONS 271 

years from nature, from many gardens visited, and from 
constant experimenting in my own, and while they do 
not pretend to be exhaustive by any means, may be of 
some assistance to those whose horticultural enigmas 
are similar to my own. 

The problems chosen are those which seem to me most 
often met with. 

THE PROBLEM OF SHADE 

Many times I have heard people say: "We cannot 
have a garden ; our place is too shady." Now this is not 
at all true, for, while to many of us the word "garden" 
signifies a sunny space, gay and sweet with Roses, Pinks, 
Poppies, Sunflowers, and brilliant annuals, to which 
shade is a serious menace, one may still have a garden 
of great beauty, charm, and fragrance beneath the 
spreading boughs of trees. 

One point the owner of the shaded gardens must keep 
in mind — that the roots of trees rob the soil of both food 
and drink, and so nourishment in extra quantity must 
be given the plants, and water also, for a shaded situa- 
tion does not by any means imply a damp one. 

I know of no annuals that do really well in shade, and 
there are not so many highly coloured flowers, but one 
will have instead a softly charming harmony. All the 
lavender, purple, and blue tones assume an especial 
quality of tender loveliness in shadowy places, and 
white is much purer than in full sunshine. 



272 MY GARDEN 

By a shaded garden we of course do not mean one 
which is so densely shadowed as never to be reached by 
the sun. Few plants would thrive under such condi- 
tions. Beds of ferns make a delightful setting for the 
many spring bulbs possible in the shaded garden. 
Plants marked * will stand only light shade. 



Asters (hardy) 
Aconitum, in var. 
Anemone japonica 

" sylvestris 
* " Pulsatilla 

" nemorosa 

" Hepatica 
Asperula odorata 

" hexaphylla 
Arenaria balearica 
Aquilegia, in var. 
Campanula, in var. 
Cimicifuga, in var. 
Corydalis lutea 

" nobilis 
Chionodoxa 
Dieentra spedabilis 

" eximia 
Dieentra Cucullaria 
Digitalis purpurea 

" grandiflora 
Doronicum, in var. 
DafiFodils, in var. 
Funkias 
Fern " " 

FritUlaria " " 
Galanthus " " 
*Geranium Ibericum 



Monkshood 
Japanese Anemone 
Wood 

Pasque Flower 
Snowdrop Anemone 
Liver Leaf 
Sweet Woodruff 

Mountain Sandwort 
Columbine 
Bellflower 
Snakeroot 
Fumatory 
Noble Fumatory 
Glory of the Snow 
Bleeding Heart 

Dutchman's Breeches 
Foxglove 
Yellow Glove 
Leopard's-bane 

Day Lily 

Fritillary 
Snowdrop 



PLANTS FOR SPECIAL SITUATIONS 273 



Geranium sanguineum 

Helleborus niger 

Iris foetidissima 

Iberis sempervirens 

Lily-of-the-Valley 

Lilies, in var. except candidum and 

Lythrum Salicaria 

Linaria Cymbalaria 

Lunaria biennis 

Meconopsis cambrica 

Myosotis, in var. 

Mitella diphylla 

Narcissus, in var. 

Primroses, in var. 

Pansies, in var. 

Polemonium, in var. 

*P8eonies, in var. 

*Papaver orientate 

* " nudicaule 
Polygonatum biflorum 
Pulmonaria, in var. 
Phlox divaricata 

* " tall growing 
*Rudbeckia speciosa 
Ruta graveolens 
Spiraeas, in var. 
Scillas, 

Sanguinaria canadensis 
Senecio, in var. 
Saxifrage umbrosa 
Trilliums, in var. 
Thalictrums, in var. 
Tiarella cordifolia 
Tradescantia virginica 
Vincas, in var. 

Violets and Violas, in var. 
Winter Aconites 



Wild Geranium 
Christmas Rose 
Foetid Iris 
Candytuft 

marsh-dwellers 
Loosestrife 
Kennelworth Ivy 
Honesty 

Welsh Poppy (protect) 
Forget-me-not 
Mitrewort 



Jacob's Ladder 

Oriental Poppy 
Iceland " 
Solomon's Seal 
Lungwort 
Canadian Phlox 

Coneflower 
Rue 

Squills 

Bloodroot 

Groundsel 

London Pride (protect) 

Wakerobin 

Meadow Rue 

Foam Flower 

Spiderwort 

Perriwinkle 



274 MY GARDEN 

WHERE GRASS WILL NOT GROW BENEATH TREES 

Oak, Ash, Birch, and Horsechestnut trees, the roots 
of which go deep into the earth, are less a tax upon the 
upper soil than such as Maples, Elms, Beeches, and 
Sycamores, whose roots prowl along the surface. The 
ground beneath Pines is particularly hard to clothe, but 
it is said that the indomitable little Periwinkle can find 
a living even here. 

For carpeting the ground when grass has given up the 
attempt to spread its green carpet, we should be grateful 
to the following plants : 

Vinca minor Periwinkle 

Hypericum calycinum St. John's wort 

Pachysandra terminalis Allegheny Mountain Spurge 

Ajuga reptans Bugleweed 

Lysimachia Nummularia Moneywort 

Lamium maculatum Dead Nettle 

Hedera Helix Ivy 

Aegopodium Podagraria Goutweed 

Scillas, in var. Squills 

Many of these small subjects have variegated varie- 
ties (especially the Goutweed) which are very useful in 
lighting up shadowy corners. It must be borne in mind 
that plants set out in such an uncompromising situation 
must be well looked after and watered until well estab- 
lished. 

SHRUBS AND VINES FOR SHADED GARDENS 

Actinidia polygama Barberries, in var. 

Akebia quinata Symphoricarpus racemosus 



PLANTS FOR SPECIAL SITUATIONS 275 

Virginia Creeper Rhus cotinus 

Honeysuckles, in var. Euonymus Japonicus 

Clematis large flowered (partial Forsythia 

shade) 

Clematis virginiana Philadelphus coronarius 

Tecoma radicans Daphne Mezereum 

Euonymus radicans Andromeda floribunda 

Ivy — English Box 

Celastrus scandens Rhododendrons, in var. 

Cornus florida Azaleas, in var. 

Cersis canadensis Amelanchier canadensis 

Laburnum vulgare Kalmia angustifolia 

Ribes aureum and sanguineum Hypericum Moserianum (protect) 

Lonicera fragrantissima Ligustrum Japonicum 

Berberis aquifolium 

PLANTING THE LOW DRY BANK 

If such banks occur in parts of the place where it is 
desired that great neatness prevail, they are best sodded 
and kept in order with the rest of the lawn, but if in 
more informal localities where grass grows upon them 
only in untidy whisps, a charming feature may be made 
of such a bank by the employment of some of the creep- 
ing plants, which will easily find a footing upon its 
sloping surface and finally form a sort of turf. 

They will, of course, need care and water until thor- 
oughly established, and the bank must be kept free 
from weeds until the little plants have fairly covered the 
surface. 

The plants may be set out about a foot apart each 
way, and will soon cover the space between. All the 
plants listed are easily raised from seed, so the large 



276 MY GARDEN 

number required may be acquired at little expense. 
Some of them also seed themselves freely, those marked 
* are especially prolific. All are trailers save the Sea 
Pink and the Maiden Pink, which latter, I think, might 
be termed a semi-trailer. 

Thymus serpyllum, in var Wild Thyme 

*Dianthus deltoides Maiden Pink 

Armeria Maritima Sea Pink or Thrift 

Crucinella Stylosa Crosswort 

*Callirhoe involucrata Poppy Mallow 

Lotus corniculatus Bird 's-foot Trefoil 

Armeria latif olia Thrift 

Ajuga reptens Bugle weed 

THE CLAY BANK 

The clay bank presents greater difficulty, as this soil 
by reason of its density shuts the plants off from their 
proper share of air, besides, owing to the slope and the 
frequently baked condition of the top soil, much of the 
surface water runs off before the thirsty roots have an 
opportunity to enjoy it. It is easy to see that many 
plants would fail under such trying conditions, but 
much may be done by choosing only such plants as are 
able to meet the situation with equanimity. If the slope 
is a long one trees and shrubs may be employed, and of 
those perhaps Elms, Norway Maples, and Oaks are the 
best. The American Thorns, Crataegus, may also be 
used and: ' 

Robinia hispida Rose Acacia 

Citysus scoparius Scotch Broom 



PLANTS FOR SPECIAL SITUATIONS 277 



Common Privet 




Euonymous atropurpurea 


Wahoo 


Sumachs, in var. 




Pyrus aucuparia 


Bird Cherry 


Crataegus Crus-galli 


Cockspur Thorn 


" mollis 




Viburnum acerifolium 


Maple-leaved Viburnum 


" dentatum 


Arrow Wood 


Rosa rugosa 


Japanese Rose 


Symphoricarpus racemosus 


Snowberry 


Rosa canina 


Dog Rose 


" Wichuraina, in var. 


Japanese Trailing Rose 


Weigela 




Honeysuckle, in var. 




Tecoma radicans 


Trumpet Vine 


Clematis virginica 


Traveller's Joy 


" vitalba 


Virgin's Bower 


Artemisias, in var. 




Achilleas " " 


Yarrow 


Sea Hollies" " 




Globe Thistles, in var. 


Mullein 


Verbascums, in var. 




Aster Novae Anglise, in var. 


Michaelmas Daisy 


Polygonum cuspidatum 


Knotweed 


" compactum 





Such a bank is best planted in the fall and the plants 
kept well watered in dry weather. Young plants are 
best employed, as these are more vigorous and establish 
themselves more quickly, and broad, natural-looking 
groups of the kinds used are most effective. 



THE WILD GARDEN 



Many plants by reason of their sophisticated and 
finished appearance are unsuitable for naturalizing 



278 MY GARDEN 

in half wild and waste places. Hollyhocks, Pseonies, 
Phlox, save the old purple, Delphiniums, Chrysanthe- 
mums, Moonpenny Daisies, and Veronicas seem par- 
ticularly to belong to the tidy garden; and new or rare 
plants should not be planted in such a situation. The 
most suitable are those which are native to the neigh- 
bourhood, or which are so little fussy about soil and 
situation and so hardy that they in a large measure re- 
produce themselves, so that in time there will be really 
natural thickets and stretches planted without our 
agency. 

The following list includes such plants as seem to me 
particularly appropriate for naturalizing: 

HERBACEOUS 

Achilleas, in var. Yarrow 

Rudbeckias, in var. Coneflower 

Lupinus Common blue and white 

Hemerocallis, in var. Yellow Day Lily 

Doronicums, in var. Leopard's Bane 

Campanula trachelium Throatwort 

" ranunculus Rampion 

" lactiflora Bellflower 
latifolia 

Camassia esculenta Quamash 

Phlox divaricata Canadian Phlox 

" subulata Creeping Phlox (rocky 

places) 

" old purple Canadian Creeping 

Saponaria officinalis Bouncing Bet 

Hesperis matronalis Sweet Rocket 

Helianthus, in var. Sunflowers 

Solidago " " Goldenrod 



PLANTS FOR SPECIAL SITUATIONS 279 



Aster 

Verbascums, in var. 

Cimicifuga *' " 

Columbine 

Echinops 

Eryngiums 

Lunaria biennis 

Tussilago fragrans 

Boconia cordata 

Epilobium angustifolium 

Geraniums, in var. 

Liatris pycnostachya 

Lythrum Salicaria 

Hieracium, in var. 

Anemones 

Digitalis purpurea 

Primroses 

Roses — Wild, or others of Rampant 

Lilium tigrinum 

" Canadense 

" superbum 

" philadelphicum 
Baptisia australis 
" tinctoria 
Any plants native to neighbourhood 



Hardy Asters, in var. 

Mullein 

Snakeroot 

Globe thistles 
Sea Holly 
Honesty 
Coltsfoot 
Plume Poppy 
Willow herb 
Crane's Bill 
Kansas Gayfeather 
Purple loosestrife 
Hawkweed 
Windflower 
Foxglove 
Common 
growth. 

Tiger Lily 
Nodding Lily 
Turk's Cap Lily 
Huckleberry Lily 
False Indigo 
Yellow " 



BULBS 

Narcissus incomparabilis, in var. 
" Leedsii 
poeticus 
Muscari — Grape Hyacinth, in var. 
Crocus, in var. 
Star of Bethlehem, in var. 
Fritillaria Meleagris, Snakeshead Fritillary 

var. alba. 
Scillas, in var.. Blue bells or Squills 
Eythroniums, in var.. Dog's tooth Violet 



280 MY GARDEN 

ANNUALS 

English Field Poppy 

Borage officinalis. Borage 

Argemone Mexicana, Mexican Poppy 

Corn Flowers 

Toadflax 

Sunflowers 

Nicotiana 

PLANTS FOR DAMP SITUATIONS 

Marsh and water gardening is best carried out upon 
rather a broad scale — that is, good stretches of one sort 
of plant, of course regulated by the size of one's avail- 
able space. A large majority of marsh plants are ram- 
pant "doers" and prosper at such a rate that they 
quickly crowd out their lesser brethren unless steps are 
taken to protect them. And so if the space to be 
planted is of no great size, these enthusiastic colonizers 
should be omitted and choice made among the more 
conservative stay-at-homes. If, however, one has a 
fairly broad marsh or extensive waterside at one's dis- 
posal one may use these larger subjects with fine effect, 
and with them the moisture-loving trees and shrubs. 
Most of the marsh plants need little care when once 
established, spreading or seeding generously, and for 
this I am devoutly thankful, for I cannot love the 
marsh and its handsome tenantry as dearly as the land- 
lubbers among my plants. Whether it is that pottering 
about among them is neither very practical nor agree- 



PLANTS FOR SPECIAL SITUATIONS 281 

able, or whether it is an instinctive aversion to all bog 
life, animal or vegetable, a dislike of wet feet and oozy 
places and a mortal fear of snakes, I do not know, but 
verily am I glad that the marsh folk are able to shift for 
themselves in a great degree. 

It is necessary to pay some attention to the marsh 
colour scheme, for many of its inhabitants are highly 
coloured and many wear the beautiful but warring hue 
known to fame as "rosy magenta." Luckily, however, 
there are a fair number of fluffy white flowers to inter- 
vene between these and the vibrant swamp Lilies and 
gay scarlet Cardinal Flower, .and only a little care is 
needed when planting is done in this "broad natural 
manner." We excuse Nature of much for which we 
would condemn the gardener. 

In laying out a path along a stream side the planting 
should be largely done on the opposite bank, as this 
gives us the opportunity of enjoying a better view. 

In planting around a formal pool in the flower garden 
the choice is best limited to plants of a tidy and rather 
severe character, and for this purpose nothing is better 
than the many water-loving Irises and the broad- 
leaved Funkias, with perhaps a few feathery Spiraeas 
interspersed. 

PLANTS FOR MARSH AND STREAM SIDE 

Alnus viridis Green Alder 

Azalea nudiflora Pixter Flower 

Azalea viscosa Swamp Honeysuckle 

Benzoin benzoin Spice Bush 



282 



MY GARDEN 



Betula nigra 

Cephalanihus occidentalis 
Clethra alnifolia 
Cornus Stolonifera 

" alba 

" paniculata (candidissima) 

" Amomum 
Halesia tetraptera 
Hamamelis virginica 
Ilex verticillata 
Itea virginica 
Nyssa sylvatica 
Populus 
Quercus bicolor 
Rosa nitida 

" caroliyia 
Salix alba 
" discolor 
" Vitellini 
Spiraea salicifolia 

" tomeniosa 



Black Birch 
Button Bush 
Sweet Pepper 
Red Osier 

White-fruited Dogwood 
Panicled Dogwood 
Swamp Dogwood 
Snowdrop Tree 
Witch Hazel 
Black Alder 
Virginia Willow 
Sour Gum 
Poplar 

Swamp White Oak 
Northeastern Rose 
Swamp Rose 
White Willow 
Pussy " 
Yellow " 
Meadow Sweet 
Steeple Bush 



PLANTS FOR DAMP SITUATIONS 



Acorus Calamus 
Alihoea officinalis 
Arundo donax 
Astilbe, in var. 
Caltha palustris 
Dodecatheon media 
Epilobiums, in var. 
Eupatorium purpureum 
Ferns, in var. 
Fritillaria alba 
Funkias, in var. 
Goodyera repens 
Hemerocallis, in var. 



Lobelia syphilitica 
Lysimachia vulgaris 
Lythrum Salicaria 
Mertensia virginica 
Mitchella repens (creeping) 
Monarda didyma 
Myosotis palustris 
Narcissus John Bain 

" Sir Watkm 
P. R. Barr 

" Beauty 

« Stella Superba 

" Emperor 



PLANTS FOR SPECIAL SITUATIONS 283 

Heracleum giganteum Narcissus poeticus 

Iris siberica, in var. " albus planus odorata 

" aurea Parnassia palustris 

" monspur Peltandra virginica 

" versicolor Physostegia virginica 

" Kaempferi Pontederia cor data 

" pseudacorus Ranunculus, in var. 

" Monnieri Sagittaria variabilis 
" Delayayi " fl" V^' 

" ochroleuca (syn. orientalis giganiea) 

Lilium pardilinum Senecio, in var. 

" superbum Spiraeas, in var. 

canadense Spigelia marylandica 

lobelia cardinalis Trollius, in var. 

Typha latifolia 

WALL GARDENING 

Wall gardening has become one of the arts and it is not 
possible to enter into so large a subject in so small a 
space, but for those who have already a dry retaining 
wall or two in their gardens the few plants here given, 
which are so easily established and grow so readily in 
such a position, may be of use. If the wall is an old one 
there will probably be soil enough in the crevices to con- 
tent those plants, but if fairly new, soil must be rammed 
firmly back into the crack which we intend to plant. If 
one has a wall to build and wishes to make of it a really 
successful wall garden, it is advisable to procure one of 
the many fascinating books which cover the subject. 
Of those Miss Jekyll's "Wall and Water Gardens," and 
H. H. Thomas' "Rock Gardening for Amateurs" will be 
found most helpful. 



284 MY GARDEN 

Seed may be rammed into the soil between the stones, 
or very small seedlings, or tiny bits of plants with a good 
root. Large plants are not advisable, as they seldom 
"take hold" in those narrow quarters. 

PLANTS FOR DRY RETAINING WALLS 

Nepeta Mussini Santolina incana 

Corydalis lutea Campanula carpatica 

Lavender, Munstead Dwarf Cerastium tomentosum 

Sedum, in var. Helianthemum, in var. 

Sempervivum, in var. Thymus vulgaris 

Aubrietia, in var. Satureia montana 

Alyssum saxatile Phlox subulaia, in var. 

Arabis alpina Achillea, iomentosa 

Dianthus, in var. Centranthus rubra 

Linum perenne Antirrhinum (snapdragon) 

Iberis sempervirens Veronica repens 
Tunica Saxifraga " prostrata 

Gypsophila repens 

PAVED WALKS 

There is much to be said in favour of paved walks and 
terraces. In small, enclosed formal gardens flagstone 
walks give a very quaint, old-world air, and they are a 
charming adjunct to houses of the Pennsylvania Colo- 
nial type, or to more pretentious dwellings built after the 
Elizabethan style. They are permanent and easy to 
maintain, always dry, and admit of a very interesting 
type of gardening. The stones, which, of course, must 
be flat, may be irregular or regular as to shape, and if 



PLANTS FOR SPECIAL SITUATIONS 285 

irregular as to shape may be of various sizes, but small 
stones, of course, are not suitable. The soil beneath the 
stones should be a good sandy loam to the depth of 
several inches, and the cracks between the stones will 
serve as a lodging place for many a charming creeping or 
tufted thing. 

One must, however, use restraint in this sort of gar- 
dening and keep in mind the fact that the path is first of 
all designed for the pedestrian, and one does not wish to 
have one's feelings harrowed at every step by crushing 
some helpless green thing beneath one's heel. We do 
not mind picking our way a bit, though, and if this 
diminutive tenantry is kept a bit to one side they are in 
no great danger. Some of the small plants seem quite 
indifferent to being trod upon. Thyme is one of these 
and sends up clouds of welcoming perfume behind our 
lagging footsteps. Only the most diminutive subjects 
are suitable for the centre of the path, but along the 
sides, if the path be wide enough, some of the larger 
alpines may have a place. In planting, seedlings or 
very small bits of plants should be used, or seeds may be 
inserted between the cracks. A narrow wooden plant- 
label is a useful tool in setting out the tiny plants, for 
any real tool known to me is far too large. 

One must have the eye of a lynx for weeds in the 
paved path and slaughter them in infancy, for once well 
rooted beneath the stones it is a terrible task to get 
them out. Except for this the path will require little 



286 MY GARDEN 

attention, for once settled the small plants have at their 
disposal the moisture beneath the stones, good food, 
and a cool root-run, which insures them peace and com- 
fort. Many of them will self-sow, and perhaps after 
a while the path will become overcrowded, but they will 
make prettier groups of themselves than we can possibly 
devise, and thinning them out occasionally is not a very 
difficult matter. 

SMALL PLANTS FOR CENTRE JOINTS 

Acaena microphylla Draba aizoides 

Erinus alpinus Thymus lanuginosus 

Arenaria halearica (shade) " Serpyllum, in var. 

Antennaria tomentosa Linaria hepaticoefolia 

Campanula pusilla " Cymbalaria 

Mentha Reguieni 

ALPINES FOR OUTER EDGES OF PATH 

Dianihus caesius Tunica saxifraga 

" deltoides Arahis alpina fl. pi. 

" arenarius Arenaria montana 

Aubrietia, in var. Gypsophila repens 

Armeria maritima Hypericum repens 

Veronica repens Phlox subulata G. F. Wilson 
Papaver alpinum " " Nelsoni 

Silene alpestris Campanula carpal ica 
" Schafta " rotundifolia 

Linaria alpina 

ANNUALS 

Sedum coeruleum lonopsidium acaule 

Gypsophila muralis 



PLANTS FOR SPECIAL SITUATIONS 287 

GRAY-LEAVED PLANTS 

The charm and usefulness of plants with gray, hoary, 
or gray -blue foliage is being more and more realized and 
appreciated. They make possible many a soft and satis- 
fying harmony, and have the advantage of remaining in 
good condition the season through. In the late autumn, 
when most of our flowers have been driven away by 
sharp frosts, the gray-foliaged plants assume a new in- 
terest and keep the garden looking "dressed" until win- 
ter has fairly closed down upon us. 

PLANTS OF GRAY OR HOARY FOLIAGE 

Antennaria tomentosa 
Artemisia Stelleriana 

" abro anum 

*' argentea 
Cerastium tomentosum 
Pinks in variety 

Funkia Sieboldiana and Fortunei 
Nepeta Mussini 

Elymus glaucus (syn. arenarius) 
Centaurea candidissima. Annual 

*' gymnocarpa, " 
Cineraria maritima, " 

(Creeping Dusty Miller) 
Ruta graveolens 
Santolina incana 

" chamoecyparissus 
Lavender — tall and dwarf 
Thymus lanuginosus, in var., Creeping 
Alyssum saxatile var. compactum 
Veronica incana 



288 MY GARDEN 

Eryngium maritimum 

Salvia oftcinalis 

Sedum Sieboldii Ewersii and spedabile 

Achillea tomentosa 

Festuca glauca 

Thalidrum glaucum 

Stachys lanata 



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

THE HERB GARDEN 

Where no vain flower discloses a gaudy streak 

But herbs for use and physic not a few 

Of gray renown, within these borders grew. 

— Shenstone. 

TO ATTEMPT to put the herb garden, with all 
its charm, its fragrance, its folklore and tra- 
dition and history, its possibilities and its 
proven delights, into a single chapter, is to attempt the 
impossible. Much that is of deep interest must be 
omitted, but I trust to have enough to interest others in 
this most pleasant and suggestive branch of the gar- 
dener's art. 

When the old farmhouse which is now our home came 
into our possession we found hanging from the roof of 
the low-browed, dusky attic a number of small paper 
bags, neatly labelled Hoarhound, Caraway, Catnip, 
Balm, Sage, Mint, Motherwort, Wormwood, and Mari- 
gold. When opened, we found them to contain leaves, 
dry almost to powder, that gave off most interesting 
and illusive odours. Later we found that, though our 
neighbourhood is but one hour from New York City and 
near to several flourishing villages, the old custom of 

289 



290 MY GARDEN 

domestic medical practice by means of plants still pre- 
vails, and that there are several aged women, well versed 
in "the physic of the field," who dose their families and 
their neighbours with strange decoctions of "dooryard 
grass," Tansy, Catnip, Coltsfoot, Skunk Cabbage, Elder, 
and others, and believe unswervingly in the efficacy of 
the ashwithe for the bite of the dread rattlesnake. 

Those little paper bags whetted my interest and 
curiosity, and I determined to know for myself those 
plants so bound up in the lives of our forefathers and so 
glorified by centuries of homely usefulness. To this 
end I began collecting all I could find, growing them in 
the flower garden or among the vegetables, gaining 
knowledge of their pleasant ways and becoming always 
more imbued with their quiet charm, until the time 
came when I could gather them together, a soft-hued, 
sweet-breathed company, into a garden of their own. 

The planning of the herb garden was a matter for 
much thought and research. We had seen several, only 
one of which seemed to answer the requirements, ideal 
as well as practical. This was at the great gardens of 
Friar Park, Henley-on-Thames, the pattern and plant- 
ing of which had been taken from a figure in Hyll's 
"Gardener's Labyrinthe," 1584, and had been most 
faithfully carried out. It was made up of many small 
beds, slightly raised and enclosed with boards firmly 
pegged at the corners, arranged to form several quaint 
patterns, and planted in the isolated manner — that is. 



THE HERB GARDEN 291 

each plant well separated from its fellows — which was 
common in that day. And it seems to me very pleasant 
and fitting to recall in our herb gardens of to-day those 
much used enclosures of long ago, for I feel very certain 
that however wild, or natural, or irregular we may care 
to be in our flower gardens, in the herb garden we have 
no precedent for being aught but prim and tidy and 
geometrical. I am sure that even in our great grand- 
mothers' days herbs were never grown in wavy-lined 
borders or in clumps and patches just anywhere; they 
were too precious for this, and were undoubtedly set out 
neatly in little rectangular beds with paths between that 
they might be the more easily cared for and harvested. 

The pattern of our herb garden is taken from a figure 
in John Rea's "Flora, Ceres et Pomona," 1676. It lies 
directly behind the stone garden house and is enclosed 
within a white trellis fence against which is a hedge of 
Damask Roses. Opposite the garden-house door it ex- 
tends out and up to form a bay or arbour, which shel- 
ters a comfortable seat. The paths between the beds 
are of brick, the joints of which provide a home for 
many a mat of fragrant Thyme or Musk spilled over 
from the little beds. These latter are raised and edged 
with boards after the manner of those at Friar Park, 
and are filled with all sorts of sweet and homely things, 
arranged with some attempt at comely association. 

It is a pleasant spot. Here are sober tones of leaf 
and flower, soothing and invigorating odours and the 



292 MY GARDEN 

satisfied hum of winged insects, and the charm of asso- 
ciation and tradition broods over all. 

All sorts of people enjoy this small enclosure and 
linger over its softly coloured inhabitants as if tempo- 
rarily under the spell which many of them are said to 
cast. Old people especially enjoy it; here they find old 
friends nearly forgotten, plants associated with their 
childhood or bound up with some tender memory. 
Keen housekeepers and epicures find much here to their 
minds and palates ; physicians are interested in meeting 
their henchmen. Aconite, Poppy, Valerian, Digitalis, and 
others in so pleasant a guise, and once the English coach- 
man of a friend came into the herb garden and standing 
in front of my precious Lavender border exclaimed with 
great feeling: "Oh, Mrs. Wilder, them bushes takes me 
*ome!" I am always pleased when my country neigh- 
bours come to me for Wormwood to cure the "swellin' " 
on the horse's leg, for Tansy or for any other of the 
green things in which their faith is large and my garden 
well supplied; and equally am I pleased when I can 
accommodate my city friends with Tarragon for the 
vinegar cruet, or with Borage, Basil, and others to 
flavour their salads. More roots and seeds, besides the 
dried products, go to friends from this part of the garden 
than from all the rest put together, and I love to send 
these little plant evangelists out into the world to make 
friends for themselves and to teach others the pleasure 
and the good to be found in that "excellent art of 



THE HERB GARDEN 293 

simpling," which old John Gerarde says, "hath been a 
study for the wisest, an exercise for the noblest, a pas- 
time for the best . . . the subject thereof so neces- 
sarie and delectable, that nothing can be confected 
either delicate for the taste, daintie for smell, pleasant 
for sight, wholesome for body, conservative or restora- 
tive for health, but it borroweth the relish of an herbe, 
the flavour of a flower, the colour of a leaf, the juice of a 
plant or the decoration of a roote . . . who would 
therefore, look dangerously up at Planets that might 
look safely down at plants." And the answer, who 
indeed? 

Before setting out to create a garden of herbs it is 
well to settle in one's mind just what an herb is, or at 
least what the word implies to one's self. There have 
been many definitions given by those interested in the 
subject, but none seem to me quite comprehensive. It 
seems generally accepted that all plants with aromatic 
foliage are rightly herbs, but beyond this is a debatable 
land. To me, a plant to deserve the name must serve a 
use, other than a decorative one, though I should not 
want all useful plants in my collection. Plants used in 
medicine, for salads, for flavouring, and even those said 
to be invested with magic working powers, might 
properly be included, but if one seeks a list of those in 
the old herbals, it will be of such length that no garden 
could hold them, and if it could, would differ little from 
an ordinary flower garden, for in that credulous long 



294 MY GARDEN 

ago nearly every plant was used for meat, for magic, or 
for medicine. It is rather confusing, but when one is 
deeply interested a sort of sense of what is jStting devel- 
ops within one, and of course there is no reason why for 
each of us the herb garden should not have a special 
meaning and manifestation. 

For myself, I have decided that my herbs must pos- 
sess beauty in some form, of flower, of leaf, or of scent, 
and such as Docks, Sowthistles, Ragweed, and Plan- 
tains, be they ever so virtuous, are rigidly excluded from 
the garden. Such plants as grow freely in our neigh- 
bourhood, as several sorts of Mints, Yarrow, Betony, 
Selfheal, Boneset, Catnip, Agrimony, the Mustards, 
Pennyroyal, and Vervain, are also debarred, as space is a 
consideration and I like to have fair-sized patches of 
each kind and not specimens only. Nearly all plants 
of aromatic foliage are included and such garden 
flowers as are of important medicinal value ; such of the 
pot and salad plants as are good to smell or to look upon 
and old-fashioned Roses, for is it not written that "the 
Rose besides its beauty is a cure.^" And the old books 
teem with recipes of things curative, soothing, or cos- 
metic, which may be made from the petals of those 
Roses of other days. 

Herbs important in our present-day cooking, which it 
is good to have fresh, are: Chervil, Chives, Sweet and 
Pot Marjoram, Sage, Tarragon, Parsley, Mint, the 
Savories, Coriander, Caraway, Thyme, Sweet and Bush 



THE HERB GARDEN 295 

Basil, and Anise — and in the French cook books many 
more sorts are deemed desirable. 

It is not easy to procure roots or seeds of a great many 
herbs, for the nurserymen and seedsmen carry very few 
as a rule. French, German, and English catalogues are 
better stocked with them than ours, as the plants are 
more in use in those countries. However, in the vege- 
table section of most seedsmen's catalogues may be 
found a fairly generous list under "Sweet, Pot, and 
Medicinal Plants," and a few roots also. And then, if 
we are really interested, roots and seeds will find their 
way to us, sometimes through friends, often through 
kindness of a chance visitor to the garden, or from some 
country neighbour who knows where choice things grow. 
Frequently we may cull a plant from some old, de- 
serted garden and find another which has thrown off 
the conventions of garden life and is thriving in the 
dust and questionable company of the open roadside. 
"How I got my herbs" would make a chapter in itself, 
absorbing to me, if to no one else. 

After a good deal of experimenting I have come to 
the conclusion that a poor, gravelly soil is the best for 
herbs in general. Many which are not hardy in the 
heavy soil of the flower garden come safely through in 
the light soil of the herb garden. Of those are Sweet 
Marjoram, Lavender, and Cedronella. Roses, Mallows, 
Aconites, and Mints must be provided with some- 
thing a little richer, but when the garden is made up of 



296 MY GARDEN 

little beds, it is a simple matter to provide more than one 
kind of soil. 

In the choice of herbs for our garden our ideal is that 
of Erasmus, "To have nothing here but Sweet Herbs, 
and these only choice ones, too." 

For the most we grow perennials, but there are a few 
annuals without which no collection would be complete. 
Of these Borage, herb of courage and glorifier of claret 
cup, is one of the most important, its soft-coloured foli- 
age and azure flowers making it a striking plant for any 
situation. Once sown it is ever with us, for the seeds are 
hardy and spring up year after year. Then there are 
the five annuals esteemed for their seeds. Anise, Dill, 
Cumin, Caraway, and Coriander — all pretty and grace- 
ful enough if rather fleeting. Saffron bears a pretty 
yellow flower and is worth growing, and Calendula 
officinalis, the Pot Marigold of other days, must have a 
place, both for its fine tawny colour and for its many 
uses and traditions. Parsley and Chervil belong here, 
and the latter provides quite as pretty a garnish as 
the former. The brothers Basil, "sweet" and "bush 
green," the latter growing into the most fetching little 
bushes imaginable, are indispensable and give to salad 
and stew a decided piquancy. The great Florence 
Fennel is an annual and a most beautiful plant, rising 
some four or five feet and spreading its broad yellow 
umbrellas over the garden in a striking manner. Sum- 
mer Savoury is a small-leaved aromatic little bush with 



THE HERB GARDEN 297 

clouds of tiny white flowers, and no scent or savour is 
better than that of Sweet Marjoram, a plant which we 
dare not be without, for it is reputed a cure for stupidity, 
a malady that our optimistic forefathers believed to 
be acute rather than chronic, and so, susceptible of 
cure. A small, blue-flowered Woodruff, Asperula azurea 
setosa; Rock Camomile, Anthemis arabica, and the tall 
white Opium Poppy complete our list of annuals, and none 
need special culture save that Caraway is best treated 
as a biennial and that Summer Savoury, Anise, and 
the Basils are tender and should not be sown out of doors 
until the ground is warm and all danger from frost is past. 

Spaces are left between the perennials where these 
fugitive ones are sown every year, and, of course, many 
take the matter into their own hands and spring up in 
the joints of the paths, against the white fence among 
the Damask Roses, and all about, after the manner of 
their kind. 

When one comes to perennials there is so much that 
is sweet and pleasant that it is difficult to know where to 
begin, but perhaps of all herbs there are none quite so 
delightful as the Thymes. Each year I find myself 
giving them more room and rejoicing exceedingly when, 
in searching some foreign catalogue, I come upon a 
variety which I have not. For the most part Thymes 
are low-growing, bushy little plants with deliciously 
scented small foliage. The Woolly-leaved Thyme {T. 
lanuginosus) spreads a soft-coloured, close-growing car- 



298 MY GARDEN 

pet along the edges of the borders, and the varieties of T. 
Serpyllum, the Wild Mountain Thyme, are also of the 
carpeting type. There are T. S. coccineus, covered 
with bright crimson flowers, and splendens, sl somewhat 
improved form — and this year I had the great good 
fortune to find in an English catalogue seeds of the rare 
white-flowered Thyme. In this same treasure-trove 
of a catalogue I also found T. azoricus, a little shrubby 
variety with purple flowers. These two " finds " are en- 
trusted to the frames, and I am impatiently awaiting 
their fragrant arrival above ground. T. Serpyllum has 
several fine forms besides the white and crimson, chief 
among which is the Lemon-scented (citriodorus) , with 
its silver-leaved and gold-leaved variations, both lovely 
for edging the beds of sober-clad herbs. T. S. micans 
is a fine-leaved, two-inch alpine species with purple 
flowers, which is happier in the joints between the 
bricks than in the beds, and T. vulgaris, the Broad- 
leaved English Thyme, so much in requisition for 
seasoning, forms a very nice little bush with dark, ever- 
green foliage of a most pleasant scent. There are three 
other species which I hope to add before another sum- 
mer: Chamaedrys, with several varieties; carnosus, said 
to grow nearly a foot tall, and villosus, from Portugal. 
Nearly all the beds in the herb garden are edged with 
some sort of Thyme, and one may not have too much of 
it, for this small sweet herb has the power to drive sad- 
ness from our hearts. 



THE HERB GARDEN 299 

The Artemisias also make valuable contributions to 
our herb garden, the best beloved of which is A. Abro- 
tanum — Southernwood, Old Man, or Lads Love, as it is 
variously called, a woody bush, some two feet tall, with 
hoary, feathery foliage and a strong, bitter smell, at once 
balmy and exliilarating. Steeped in oil it is good to rub 
limbs benumbed by the cold, and I can well imagine its 
warming and stimulating effect. A. argentea and 
Stellariana are pretty, silvery foliaged varieties about 
a foot tall. A. vulgaris is tall with whitish leaves. 
This is the Mugwort and is much in demand in rural 
neighbourhoods for all sorts of homely uses. A. 
absinthium, which gives its name to the famous French 
liquor, should be included, and, of course, Tarragon, 
which belongs to this family and is one of the most use- 
ful and piquant of herbs. Parkinson says that this plant 
was supposedly created by "putting the seeds of Lin or 
Flax into the roote of an onion and so set in the ground, 
which when it hath sprung, hath brought forth the 
herbe Taragon." He adds, however, lest we waste our 
time in experiment, that "this absurd and idle opinion 
hath by certain experience been proved false." 

The two Lavender Cottons — Santolina incana and S. 
chamaecyparissus — are both nice shrubby little plants 
with silvery foliage and a strong, pungent smell. Many 
herbs wear sober grayish coats. Hoarhound is one of 
these, though it is not otherwise very pretty, and the 
lovely Nepeta Mussini with its continuous spikes of 



300 MY GARDEN 

lavender bloom. Lavender, of course, has gray foliage, 
and is one of the most cherished of my herbs, for in our 
severe climate we must go to a little trouble for its 
sweet sake. I lost a sad number of plants during the 
years before we made the herb garden, but I think they 
are safer now in a place prepared for them. We made a 
narrow border along the wall of the garden house — the 
exposure is southern and the soil poor and gravelly, and 
in the winter we protect the plants with a blanket of 
leaves over the roots held in place by light branches. 
We grow three kinds: L. spica, the broad-leaved; L. vera, 
the narrow-leaved, which is I think the hardier; and a 
dwarf, compact sort called Munstead Dwarf. There is a 
lovely white-flowered Lavender which I have not yet, 
but as it is said to be less robust than the purple, per- 
haps I could not keep it. This hot, dry border was also 
designed to hold Rosemary, but after several bitter 
losses I have given it up as too tender for our winters — 
and filled its place with Thyme. 

Rue, Ruta graveolens, is a beautiful low bush with 
metallic foliage, said to be strongly antiseptic. Pliny 
says it was an ingredient in eighty -four remedies — bitter 
ones they must have been, for the leaves of Rue are acrid 
to a degree. It is easily raised from seed and grows in 
sun or shade. Only less bitter to the taste is Hyssop, 
Hyssopus officinalis, and how terrible must have been 
that cough syrup, once much in vogue, of Rue and 
Hyssop boiled in honey! However, Hyssop is a very 



THE HERB GARDEN 301 

charming plant with small dark foliage and bright-blue 
flowers which last a long time. The little bushes should 
be cut over in spring to keep them shapely. In the 
same bed with it grows a pretty aromatic-leaved herb of 
which I am very fond — Cedronella cana, sometimes 
called Balm of Gilead, with spikes of wine-red blossoms 
with blue stamens and a neat, bushlike form. Berga- 
mot (Monarda) is here, too, both the wine-coloured and 
the white with its scented foliage, than which nothing is 
more delicious. It is still used in the manufacture of 
*' sweet waters." 

Tansy and Costmary are two old-fashioned plants, 
nearly related but differing widely in appearance. 
Tansy, Tanacetum vulgare, is a tall plant with beautiful 
foliage and flat, dull gold flower heads borne in the late 
summer. It has escaped from cultivation and, with 
other free spirits, decorates the roadsides in many lo- 
calities, where it is eagerly sought by those who know 
the eflScacy of Tansy Tea in spring, or wish to hang 
branches of it near the doors and windows of their 
dwellings to attract flies from the rooms. Costmary 
{Tanacetum halsamita), also called Alecost and Bible- 
leaf, the latter from the use made of the long leaves 
as marks in the Bible, is so entirely out of use and 
fashion that it is well nigh impossible to get it. My own 
came to me through a dear Quaker lady, from an old 
garden in Germantown, and is one of my most prized 
possessions. It has a tuft of long green leaves, snipped 



302 MY GARDEN 

about the edges and giving forth a most tantahzingly 
famiHar but illusive fragrance, and its tall stem, "spread- 
eth itself into three or foure branches, every one bear- 
ing an umbell or tuft of gold-yellow flowers." In 
the old days it was used to give zest to ale, but the dried 
leaves were more in demand for tying up in little bags 
with "lavender toppes" to "lie upon the toppes of 
bedds and presses, &c., for the sweete sent and savour it 
casteth." 

We grow two of the Salvia family here and sometimes 
three, for the annual Horminum called "Red Top or 
Purple Top," according to the colour of its gay leaf- 
bracts, is pretty and in order. S. officinalis, the Sage of 
stews and stuffings, is the one herb to be found in nearly 
every kitchen garden. It makes a spreading bush with 
beautiful velvet leaves and spikes of blue-purple flowers 
greatly appreciated by bees. It loves a sunny corner 
in well-drained soil. A less known Salvia, and one diffi- 
cult to find, is S. sclarea, Clary, or Clear-eyes, a very 
tall plant, with broad, soft foliage, once used to flavour 
certain kinds of beer, but mainly relied upon as a cure 
for all troubles of the eye. It is a biennial, so we start 
the seeds in the nursery and set the plants in the herb 
garden at the beginning of their second season, allowing 
them plenty of room. 

Mints belong here, of course, but several kinds are so 
plentiful in a wild state that we grow only two — a varie- 
gated form of the Apple Mint, Mentha rotundifolia, and 



THE HERB GARDEN 303 

the wee Corsicaii, M. Requieni^ which creeps between 
the bricks and has a good scent. Some other Mints are: 
M. Pulegium, Pennyroyal; M. sylvestris. Horse Mint; 
M. piperita, Common Peppermint, and M. viridis. 
Spearmint. 

Comfrey, Symphytum officinale, is a plant about the 
virtues of which history is strangely silent, though it is 
often mentioned with great respect, and one of its names 
is "Healing herb." It is rather too coarse and per- 
vasive for even a large garden, but we tolerate the golden- 
leaved variety for the sake of its pretty blue flowers. 
Balm, Melissa officinalis, with its highly fragrant leaves, 
is another plant which must be kept well in check, but 
has ever been of the greatest importance. It is both a 
"hot" and a "sweet" herb, and was much used in baths 
to "warm and comfort the veins and sinewes." Good 
for "greene wounds" and bee stings, "it also putteth 
away the cares of the mynde, and troublesome imagina- 
tion." Valuable indeed ! 

The four central beds of the garden are given up to 
one kind of plant each: Winter Savoury, Camomile, 
Germander, and Pot Marjoram. The first, Satureia 
montana, is a delightful little bushy plant, with small, 
highly aromatic leaves and a haze of tiny white flowers. 
It loves a sunny spot and poor, gravelly soil; indeed, in 
heavy soil it is not supposed to be quite winter-proof. 
It is still much used for culinary purposes, and I have a 
vague childhood memory that it used to be bound upon 



304 MY GARDEN 

our numerous bee stings to draw out the poison. It is 
easily raised from seed. 

Camomile, Anthemis nobilis, is not very pretty, but 
it has so many virtues that it must needs be given a 
prominent place. It is called the "plant physician," 
and not only gives aid to frail humanity in distress, but 
to its brothers and sisters of the plant world. It is said 
that if Camomile is placed near any weak or ailing plant 
it at once revives. Besides this, it quiets the baby, 
breaks up colds, drives away insects, secures us against 
bad dreams if placed beneath the pillow, and its flower 
heads are made into a valuable medicine in use at the 
present day. It is easily raised from seed, but may 
usually be found growing wild. 

Germander, Teucrium Chamaedrys, is a nice little 
woody plant with rose-coloured blossoms and pleas- 
antly scented foliage. In Elizabethan days it was 
chiefly used to edge the quaint garden "Knottes," and 
also, on account of its purifying redolence, as a "strew- 
ing herb." It blooms late in the summer and seems 
happy anywhere in the sunshine. Pot Marjoram is one 
of the prettiest plants in the herb garden. It is semi- 
prostrate in growth, and the graceful branches terminate 
in flat heads of soft pink flowers. The whole plant is 
deliciously sweet and one wants a lot of it. Oil of 
Marjoram is comforting to stiff joints, and it was, in the 
old days, greatly in demand in making sweet bags, sweet 
powders, and sweet washing waters — all so pleasant to 



THE HERB GARDEN 305 

think upon. It is, of course, much used m our present- 
day cooking. 

We must have a few clumps of Chives, with their 
pretty upstanding flower heads, which as children we 
called "tasty tufts." Nothing is so stimulating to the 
salad, and if the plants are cut over occasionally new 
blades will spring up. Garden Burnet, so well thought 
of by Bacon, must have a place for the sake of its beauti- 
ful foliage, and Chicory with its "dear blue eyes," and 
yellow-flowered Fennel, famous in fish sauces. Ram- 
pion also, Campanula rampunculoides, with its spikes 
of pretty purple bells, the roots of which are highly 
spoken of in the old cook books, and tall rather gawky 
Angelica, the stems of which are still made into a sweet- 
meat. 

Certain kinds of Roses were of the greatest impor- 
tance in the practice of medicine, in cookery, and in 
matters of the toilet, so an herb garden without these 
would certainly be incomplete. Says Parkinson : "The 
Rose is of exceeding great use to us; for the Damask 
Rose (beside the super-excellent sweetwater it yieldeth 
being distilled, or the perfume of the leaves being dried, 
serving to fill sweete bags) serveth to cause solubleness 
of the body, made into a Syrupe, or preserved with 
sugar moist or dry candied. The Damask Provence 
Rose is not onely for sent nearest of all Roses unto the 
Damask, but in the operation of solubility also. The 
Red Rose hath many physicall uses much more than any 



306 MY GARDEN 

other, serving for niany sorts of compositions both 
cordial and cooHng, both binding and loosing. The 
White Rose is much used for the cooling of heate in the 
eyes ; divers doe make an excellent yellow colour of the 
juice of white Roses, wherein some Allome is dissolved." 
And so we may properly have Damask and Provence 
Roses and sweet Rosa alba, and, besides these, the early 
authorities attribute virtues to the Musk Rose and the 
Sweet Brier. As closely allied to the Provence and 
Damask Roses, we include the lovely Moss Roses and 
the quaint old York and Lancaster, and I am sure they 
grow among the herbs of old, they look so at home 
among ours. 

Many of the sweet-smelling leaves of the herb garden 
may be dried and sewed up in little *'taffety" or muslin 
bags to place among linen, and, of course, one wishes to 
preserve the leaves and seeds useful in the kitchen. 
Pleasant indeed it is to make one's way about the nar- 
row paths, one's skirts at every step invoking clouds of 
aromatic incense from the crowding plants, culling here 
and there one kind at a time, the most promising shoots 
or flower heads, and piling them in fragrant heaps in the 
broad shallow garden basket. The old books teem with 
quaint rules and instructions, largely superstitions, for 
the harvesting of herbs, but we have not room here to be 
aught but brief and practical. A breezy, sunny day is 
the best for this agreeable task; just before they flower 
is the proper time for cutting plants wanted for their 



THE HERB GARDEN 307 

leaves, and when the flower heads are required, as with 
Lavender, Camomile, and Marigolds, they are most de- 
sirable before being fully open. When seed is wanted 
the plant must, of course, be allowed to flower and fully 
mature its seed. Flower heads or leaf stalks should 
then be tied into small bunches, and hung in an airy, 
shady place — shady, "that the sun draw not out their 
virtue." When quite dry the leaves may be stripped 
from the stalks and rubbed through a fine sieve and put 
in tightly corked and labelled bottles. 

Many good and pleasant things may be made from 
the products of the herb garden, and the collecting of old 
books on cookery, household matters, or of the toilet be- 
comes a most gripping passion. There is no room to tell 
of the cordials, wines, vinegars, blends for glorifying the 
humble stew or stimulating the salad, sweet waters, and 
bags for invigorating baths, as well as for the linen chest, 
that one may have by growing these humble plants, but 
any one who does grow them] will not long allow them to 
go unused. The old custom of putting bags of sweet 
herbs under the door mat, that balmy odours might 
enter with the guests, is certainly a pleasing one, and 
also that of hanging such bags in doorways or windows, 
or placing them beneath the chair cushions. 

In Donald McDonald's book of "Fragrant Flowers 
and Leaves," for which all those interested in the subject 
should be grateful, he says: "Man alone seems born 
sensible to the delights of perfumes and employs them 



308 MY GARDEN 

to give energy to his feelings, for animals and insects in 
general shun them." And it is to fragrance that the 
enduring charm of the herb garden is attributable. 
Many people are insensible to beauty of form and con- 
tour, some have little sense for colour, but few are proof 
against the peculiar appeal of perfume, for is not per- 
fume after all less food for the senses than for the soul? 



THE END 



THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



0002337^^83 











